Cry For Love
by jerjonji
Summary: Misao is tired of waiting for Aoshi to notice that she's become a woman and with the unlikely help of Cho, hatches a plan that backfires.
1. The Escape Is Planned

Cry For Love

By jerjonji

Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me. They are all the creative genius of Nobuhiro Watsuki.

I thank him for allowing me to respectfully borrow them!

Also- the numbers after some terms are footnote numbers… see the end of the chapter for the footnotes…

And… Please review- how else will I know if you like it or hate it?

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Chapter One: The Escape Is Planned

She took no pleasure in the feel of the finely engraved, perfectly balanced Kansatsu Tobi Kunai (1) in her hands. Her hazel eyes narrowed and the darts flew from her fingers in perfect harmony, hitting the target instantly. She frowned as she critiqued the results.

"Almost perfect," the deep voice made the butterflies in her stomach revolt and she smiled as he returned the weapons to her. Their hands brushed and she flushed at the mere touch of his slender, calloused fingers on her palm. "Almost isn't good enough," he said quietly, looking past her as if she didn't exist.

"I'm getting better," she contested hotly.

"Good," he replied coldly, "Then you'll have a slight chance on making it to adulthood." He strolled away towards the garden. She stomped her feet, growled, and angrily threw the darts at the target. More than half missed.

"You need to learn to control those emotions, Missy," he said, not pausing to see the result. "If you don't, you'll never control your weapon." He disappeared into the garden.

Misao sank to the ground, disheartened. There was no one there to comfort her, to reassure her that it would be alright next time, and her bitter tears brought only a sense of loneliness. She wiped any trace of them away with her shirt sleeves, and the young kunoichi (2) hardened her heart. She was the proclaimed leader of the Oniwabanshu, not the snotty Aoshi Shinomori. He did little but mediate and criticize her since his return. He refused to take back the leadership or practice his kenjutsu (3), but he had plenty of time to tell her what a rotten job she was doing or tell her how she'd never live long enough to have children. Yet, whenever he was near, her heart did flip-flops and she lost the ability to speak intelligently. She blushed at the sound of his voice in the next room, and her dreams were Cinderella fairytales featuring the beautiful Aoshi Shinomori sweeping her into his strong arms and promising to love her forever.

But there was no chance of that happening in the real world. In the real world, the former leader was cold and unapproachable, and most of the time, he didn't recognize she was in the room. If she brought him tea, it would be cold before he'd acknowledge her presence, and lately, she'd been stubborn enough to not leave until he said hello. But he didn't seem to notice that his tea was cold or that she was still there. She watched him closely at supper that night, quietly observing his interaction with the rest of the household. He seemed at ease, gently teasing those sitting next to him, eating off their plates and laughing at their silly reactions. Their eyes met, and the warmth in his gray eyes disappeared, leaving a sense of disapproval in its place. She glared at him and he looked away. He offered the girl sitting next to him a taste of the beef off his own plate. Misao watched the intruder laughingly take a petite bite off Aoshi's chopsticks, and her own face flushed, with a mixture of longing and frustration. She excused herself and left the room.

She sat cross-legged on the bench in the garden, listening to the koi eating mosquitoes off the surface, watching a dragonfly flit across the pond, and trying to come up with a plan that would make the cold Aoshi melt in her arms. She frowned and rejected plot after plot. Sighing, she leaned back against the bench and watched the stars dancing in and out of the clouds. Cold hands covered her eyes, and her lips were gently kissed. She sighed, reached up to pull the man of her dreams into a deeper kiss, and reacted instantly.

The moans of the impostor interrupted the quiet peace of the garden night. Misao reached for her darts.

"I'm sorry," he begged for her mercy. She glowered at the tall man whose hair stuck straight up, like a broom, who was still holding his private parts, blinking back tears of pain and agony from her well-placed kick.

"What did you think you were doing, Cho?" she scolded. "I could have killed you for that!"

His easy grin returned. "You looked like you were thinking about being kissed, so I obliged. I'm just the wrong guy, once again," he confessed, his face looking like a boy caught stealing cookies, apologetic yet proud.

She slid down on the bench and motioned for him to join her. Cho bounced with pure pleasure and collapsed on the seat next to her. "You are becoming quite a formidable woman, Misao-chan," he said cheerily, fully recovered from her attack.

"Why are you here?" Misao demanded. "I thought you were working with the Wolf. Does he know you've escaped from your cage?"

Cho laughed and the sound echoed. Misao was startled by the joy in it. "I'm on vacation. I've earned it, and I came to talk to the leader of Oniwabanshu, but he's occupied at the minute so I thought I'd come entertain you. I didn't expect you to be so grown though. You've become a woman since I last saw you."

Misao blushed and hid her face. "Ah, the great Shinomori is blind to that fact, is he?" Cho continued. "The man's a fool."

Misao was silent. She didn't bother refuting his claim that Aoshi was still the leader of the Oniwabanshu. It didn't seem worth it.

They sat comfortably on the bench, the fireflies sparkling and darting between them. They were two old friends who'd been through enough that words weren't needed. "What you need is a vacation," Cho proclaimed after a while.

Misao pushed away the idea. "No, really," Cho insisted. "You know the saying; Absence makes the heart grow fonder?"

Misao nodded, thinking that Cho might have the right idea after all.

"I think the Okashira has become too comfortable with you here. You are part of the background. He just takes you for granted and he doesn't see you. It's as if you are the koi in the pond in front of us. He feeds the koi and watches them swim, but he doesn't notice the individual fish growing more beautiful every day. He just sees the koi as a group."

Misao's eyes filled up and she looked away, not wanting Cho to see them. She stared at the koi in the pond, watched them feeding off the insects skimming across the water, and wiped the tears away with her fingers. She shrugged.

Cho looked away to give her some space to recompose herself. "Why don't you travel with me tomorrow? I'm going to visit the Battosai and his lady before heading north. I heard that Sano has developed some new skills and I'm eager to try them out." He grinned and Misao found herself grinning back. He stuck out a bony hand and Misao shook it.

"Your fingers are cold, Cho!" she complained.

He patted his heart. "Cold hands, warm heart, dearling!"

She laughed and he got a hurt expression on his face. She patted it. "I'll go, but if you try to kiss me again, I'll kill you. Understand?"

A look of fear and pain darted across his eyes. "Cross my heart," he promised. "I won't ever kiss you first again as long as we both are breathing." She laughed and he jumped up, pulling her to her feet. "Let's go tell Jiya you're going on vacation!"

Misao smiled. A vacation was just what she needed. Cho was right!

* * *

1 Misao's deadly darts

2 female ninja

3 the study of the sword


	2. Breaking Plates

Chapter 2: Breaking Plates

Feeling smug at her escape over Jiya's complaints about her choice of traveling partners, Misao snuggled into the corner of the train's seat. She let the motion of the wheels lure her to sleep, feeling safe with Cho across from her. There were few people other than the Cold One and Kenshin who were as good with the sword as Cho. She didn't quite trust his change of heart, but she'd seen it happen to others who'd encountered Kenshin in battle, so it was likely the changes were real.

But she could protect herself. She had been trained by the best spy network in the country since she was a child, and could hold her own in any situation. Any situation except the one she was running away from, she thought. She couldn't compete for a man's heart if the man didn't know she existed. She wondered about his reaction to the news she'd left with another man when Jiya finally screwed up enough nerve to tell him, but she doubted if he'd do more than raise one eyebrow and ask for another serving of tea. She closed her eyes and nodded off.

Her prediction wasn't far from wrong. First, Aoshi threw the tea cup at the wall, and then he calmly asked for another cup of tea. He had words with the Okina about the wisdom of letting her go off unprotected. Jiya pointed out that Aoshi had no right to act so concerned and pointed out that it was his own behavior that made the girl run away in the first place.

Unsettled and frustrated, Aoshi paced, his cool demeanor slipping the longer he strode across the floor. How dare Jiya blame him for a foolish child's actions! What did Jiya mean when he said it was his fault the girl left? He'd been proper and standoffish with the child. He'd shown her no special preferential treatment at all. How could it possibly be his fault? His fists tightened until the muscles in his upper arm bulged and ached from the tightness.

An hour passed, then two, and still Aoshi paced, no closer to a decision than before he started. Should he go after her and bring her home? What if she refused? What if something happened to her? He should kill Cho for this stunt. He knew she wouldn't have gone if Cho hadn't suggested it. But if he showed up at the Battosai's, she'd think he was chasing her, that he wanted more than he really wanted. But what did he want? She was a child and he was man. He shied away from what he wanted, refusing to put words to the pictures in his mind. As each hour passed by, she was farther and farther away from his protective hand. He wanted her home, he finally decided. He wanted her home where he could keep her safe, until she matured enough- He shook away the thought germinating in the base of his skull, barely conscious.

Jiya looked up at the angry man in front of him, and kept the smile hidden from his eyes and face. "I'm bringing her back," Aoshi announced.

"Good," Jiya responded quietly. "The next train leaves in an hour." He handed Aoshi a packet. Without looking, Aoshi shoved it in a pocket and left the room silently. Jiya grinned. Maybe the girl's instincts were good after all, he thought. He sipped his tea and smiled at the tempest Shinomori would find himself in when he tried to make the young girl do anything she didn't chose to do willingly. He idly wondered if he'd given Aoshi enough money to cover all broken dishes that he guaranteed would ensue during the discussion between the Ice King and his Princess.

Aoshi threw his clothing in a pack carelessly, and picked up his matched pair of Kodachis. They were perfectly balanced for his hands and had been handcrafted to suit him and his style. He hadn't touched them in months, but the fit was flawless. He moved through the basic katas with them. Barely sweating, he stowed them away at the end of the brief workout. His faithful companions would accompany him once more. He couldn't leave them behind this time. He was sure he wouldn't have to use them, but if he needed them, he'd have them.

It was while waiting for the train to pull into the station that he recognized the emotion he was feeling in the pit of his stomach. It wasn't a feeling he'd felt often, but the dark snake of fear began uncurling inside him. Not fear for himself, but fear of what was ahead for the child he'd been protecting since she was born. The only time he felt this way was when she was injured or hurt. He remembered the first time he felt it.

Misao was no more than four and he was fourteen, not the Okashira of the Oniwabanshu yet even. They'd been playing hide and seek in the woods, and he was It. Misao hid while he counted, and even though he peeked, by the time he finished, she was gone. He searched for her and searched for her, but he couldn't find her. He yelled for her, but she didn't answer. He found one of her tiny red sneakers under a bush, but the child had vanished. Even with Beshimi and Hannya's help, he couldn't find her. Sick, he told Okina and the entire Oniwabanshu searched the woods for the tiny child.

Near tears, he sat on a rock and hid his face in his hands. It was getting late and the sun was going down. The child had been missing for hours. He ran though the list of possibilities, trying to figure out what had happened to the child. A wolf, an intruder, a snake bit her, she drowned in the nearby lake, the list was endless and it was his fault she was missing. A sliver of gold gleamed in the setting sun, dancing on the water. His eyes followed its path to an overgrown bush. Not breathing, he ran to the bush and crawled under it. The child was sound asleep, the necklace around her neck reflected the sun's light in his eyes. He gathered the missing infant in his arms and signaled his success to the other searchers.

A drowsy little girl wrapped her arms around his neck and snuggled him. "I thought you was neber gonna find me 'Oshi," she said sleepily. "I waited forever for you."

He waited his punishment from Okina later that night, but Okina never appeared to administer it. He calmly walked down to Okina's room and bowed respectfully, "I am ready for my punishment, sir," he announced, resolutely.

Okina looked up from the papers he was studying. The soft glow of the night lamp dulled the harshness of the plain room. Aoshi didn't flinch or search for a way out. He waited, still.

Okina studied the sturdy boy in front of him, seeking the man he would become in the boyish features. The lad was brilliant and a quick study of the sword. He learned new techniques and worked until they were flawless. The rest of the Oniwabanshu worshipped him already and he hadn't been given any real responsibility yet. It was rare to see the boy as rattled as he'd been today by the missing girl, and Okina wondered if the tiny infant would be the boy's saving grace or downfall later on in life. On the other hand, the show of emotion was a sign that the boy hadn't shut down all his emotions, and that he was still connecting with others. It was a good thing. Plus, it confirmed to Okina that the child was still a child, well on his way to manhood, but not quite there yet. He nodded at the boy still waiting before him.

"What did you learn today?" he asked gently.

The question took Aoshi by surprise. He shook his head speechless.

Okina nodded. "Come back when you can tell me what you learned, and then I can decide what the appropriate punishment is." Okina picked up his papers, dismissing the boy with his actions. Aoshi stepped forward to protest the directions, but restrained himself. He bowed and left the room.

It was a week before he returned to Okina's room, seven days of thought and mediation, isolating himself from the rest of the group until he had an answer he thought he could give his leader. It was seven long days of fasting, alone with his thoughts and emotions, before he was content with the answer he found.

He stood silent, waiting to be recognized by Okina. The old leader called for some soup and hot tea to be brought into the room, and motioned for the boy to eat, but Aoshi refused. Okina stood up. "Eat, then we'll talk," he said, exiting the room.

Aoshi stood there, stunned, the smell of the soup overwhelming him. The simple broth burned his mouth and filled his stomach, making it ache. Okina rejoined him when the soup was gone and gestured for the lad to sit down. Wanting to object, the child obeyed. Okina sat opposite him and searched his face seriously for a long time. The silence loomed between them until Aoshi was bursting with words, yet still Okina didn't speak. Finally, Okina nodded. "And what did you learn, during your soul searching?" he asked.

Aoshi opened his mouth, but the flood of words faded away. He had little to say to his leader. It was as if all his soul searching was for nothing. He closed his mouth, and Okina nodded, contented with his charge's behavior. The silence between them was less charged and finally Aoshi spoke. "If I am responsible for others, I must to do everything I can to protect them."

Okina nodded. "And when your good isn't good enough, what then, boy?"

Aoshi shrugged. "I will have to do what it takes to be good enough," he replied.

Okina shook his head. "You are still too young to understand but the time will come when your best isn't good enough and you will need a different answer then. But for now, your response is correct. What is ahead of you will be difficult enough without you doubting yourself. The little one has missed you this week. She thinks it is her fault you are being punished and not allowed to play with her. "

Aoshi looked confused. "But I'm not being punished," he started to explain but Okina shook it off.

"Tell it to the right person," he insisted. "I am not the right one to hear this explanation."

He found Misao waiting for him at the top of the dark stairs, nearly asleep. He picked her up and carried her to her room. Tucking her in, he tried to explain, but she fell asleep half way through his long winded explanation, content that he was home and everything was alright again.

Sitting upright on the train, oblivious to its rattle, he wondered if Misao thought his withdrawal from the Oniwabanshu was her fault this time too. He sighed. It seemed like they'd spent an entire lifetime thinking they were at fault for the other's mistakes. He needed this time to think of what he'd say this time that would make her come back home with him. He needed to find the words that would make her feel content and that everything was alright again.


	3. Salmon Skies

Chapter Three: Salmon Skies

Cho watched the sleeping teenager, the light from the day beginning to fade, and the shadows passing over her face as the train rushed by the countryside. Sitting still so long made his head hurt. He was a man of action, and waiting dulled the edge of his sword. He watched the surroundings carefully, searching for anything out of place, a sign of trouble. He barely nodded at the man near the front of the car. The train was nearly empty and they still had a ways to travel. He nudged Misao with his foot to wake her. She yawned and stretched like a cat after a long afternoon nap.

"Hungry?" he asked.

She smiled and nodded. "I'll get us some sandwiches at the next stop, then. We have a bit of a delay there. You can go wash your face and I'll grab some food."

Misao gathered up her belongings and they waited for the screeching wheels to tell them they were at their stop. The hues of the afternoon sun were pink and a rosy glow was cast over everything. Cho nodded at a nearby bench. "I'll meet you right here in ten minutes," he said before sauntering away. Misao's eyes scanned the train platform. She was still disoriented from her long nap and hadn't thought to ask Cho where they were. A bit of disquiet lodged in the base of her neck. She rolled her head left to right to dislodge it before searching for the restrooms.

The sleep and travel dust washed from her face, she bought a couple apples from the old woman selling them on the edge of the platform. She checked the large clock. It'd only been eight minutes. She settled down on the bench and shined the apples until they reflected a rainbow on their red skin. She stashed the apples away as a surprise later on, and watched the nearly empty platform. There were a few people still waiting for the train to leave, and the porters were busy loading trunks onto the storage car. She counted the trunks out of boredom and wondered why there were so many more trunks than passengers. It seemed odd that there were more Police Officers than porters watching the process.

Distracted by the trunks, she didn't watch the time. Cho would be back shortly with the food. The sun faded away leaving a salmon glow in the sky. The fading light cast long shadows on the waiting train. She heard the children running before she saw them and smiled at the memories of playing tag when she was child. But these two boys weren't playing tag; they were calling her name up and down the long wooden platform. "Misao-san! Misao-san!" the juvenile voices called out to her. Startled, she stood up and checked her surroundings carefully. But other than the porters and the luggage, nothing was out of place.

She waved to the children. "I'm Misao-san!" A young boy about eight grabbed her hand and started pulling her down the platform.

"Come, Miss," he begged. "Your friend, he is hurt."

She stopped and yanked away. "My friend?" she asked, distrusting. Cho could take care of himself. There was no way he could be hurt.

A tiny lad in a ragged tee-shirt and cut off jeans grabbed her hand again. "The guy with the hair that sticks straight up, like flowers, he fell at Grammy's shop when he was buying sandwiches," he explained intently while pulling her along.

The older boy grabbed her bags and ran ahead, before stopping and calling back to her, "That's right. One minute he was ordering sandwiches, and then next, bang, he's lying on the floor."

The smallest one agreed. "His whole body shook, like this," he imitated Cho's body shakes, and giggled, "and then," the little boy whispered, his eyes dancing with joy and excitement, "He peed his pants! Right on Grammy's floors!"

Misao couldn't believe it, but the boys were serious. She took off running and the youngest lagged behind as they ran down the platform toward the shop. Cho, sick, who would imagine, she thought, feeling her legs stretch as she looped towards the boys grandmother's shop. The eight year old pointed out the turns and slowed down as they approached the dirty shop window. Hand painted windows in antique lettering advertised sandwiches underneath a century of grime and filth, but Misao slowed down, checking out her environment carefully. The last of the sunset reflected off the window leaving a salmon shine to the old golden letters.

The youngest boy flew past her and burst into the tiny store hollering, "I got her, Grammy. I got her!"

She followed him in cautiously and the older boy slide in behind her and shut the door. The room was dark and she was blinded by the blackness of the room. She heard the click of the door locking behind her, and felt the boys slipping away. Breathing heavily from the run, she slowed her breathing down so she could hear around her. She reached for her beloved darts, safe in their hiding place, but they were missing. Frantic, she searched for them, but they were gone.

Cho, she thought. I trusted him and he set me up. I walked right in a trap. Furious, she searched the room for any signs that Cho had been there. She took a deep breath. It's ok, she thought, calming down. I am the leader of the Oniwabanshu. I am capable of defending myself in any situation. They think just because they have my weapons, I am safe. They are fools! And Cho? I'll kill himself! She reached for her bags before remembering the older boy had carried them for her and he was gone from the room.

Her eyes began to adjust to the darkness and she was able to pick out a lone figure sitting cross-legged on the floor, leaning against the wall. A bottle of sake next to him, he swallowed some, and then smiled. She backed up at the smile. Her eyes anxiously searched the room for some leverage, but they kept coming back to the man in front of her. A pair of designer shades perched on top his bleached white hair. She recognized him instantly, though she'd never seen him.

"Misao Makimachi, leader of the Oniwabanshu," he said scornfully.

"Enishi Yukishiro," she replied coldly. "Dealer in illegal weapons,"

He laughed, a deep rich laugh. She glared at him. He lit a small candle next to him and gestured for her to sit down across from him.

The flickering flame showed the dingy room's details. Night had finally arrived and the little light danced in the darkness showing off tiny pieces of the room- a part of her capturer's pant leg, the wood grain on the floor, the label on the sake bottle, the cushion waiting for her. There was a stain on the floor like Cho had peed himself after all. Maybe he wasn't a part of this madness.

She crossed her arms. "Where's Cho?" she demanded.

Enishi laughed again, "Tea?" he asked

She glowered. He poured tea for both of them and nudged hers closer toward her. She kicked it at him and he ducked before the hot tea could reach his face.

"That wasn't very nice, Misao Makimachi. I'm here to talk business with you," he said mockingly.

She watched the hot liquid soak into the thirsty wooden floor. "And why would the Oniwabanshu want to do business with you?" She tapped the floor impatiently.

He grinned, at ease and comfortable with the role he was playing. "Did you know that salmons will overcome great distances and many hazards to return to the precise stream of their birth?" he wondered aloud.

"What?" Misao exclaimed, lost at the odd transition.

"Some people are like salmons. They reach a stage in their life when they need to go home or they'll die. The interesting thing about Pacific salmon is that they die shortly after spawning."

Intrigued by the odd conversation, Misao listened intently. He laughed, slightly embarrassed, and motioned to the cushion in front of him. "This'd be easier if you'd sit down."

Still alert, she lowered her body down onto the cushion and stared into his eyes.

"Think of me as a Pacific salmon who has returned home to his birthplace with the need to procreate before I die," he continued, his eyes down.

She stifled the urge to laugh and bit her tongue. She looked over the man who'd just propositioned her and was surprised at what she saw. Still, she shook her head no, her cheeks flushed by the idea.

"Don't turn me down yet," he pleaded. "Get to know me first, and then decide. Please?"

Their eyes met and in his she saw all the longing and desire she'd longed to see in Aoshi's eyes. She looked away, unable to continue the gaze. She nodded yes as if she had no control over her body. He smiled. "Good. I will send a message to your home telling them you are safe with me. Now, would you like another cup of tea to kick at my face?"

She waved a bit of an awkward apology at him, but his laughter at her response warmed her. Maybe this was what she really wanted all along, she thought. Maybe she'd just been a schoolgirl with a crush on the wrong guy… maybe!


	4. The Four Winds

Chapter Four: The Four Winds

Aoshi hiked the trail to the run-down dojo confidently. The moon lit the path in front of him and the fireflies flitted around his head. He was sure that after speaking a few carefully chosen words the brat would give up this silly idea of hers and return home where he could keep her safe. The lights from the dojo guided him to the door and he knocked sharply.

The red-head hid his surprise well and Aoshi wondered about it briefly. Surely they expected him to come for Misao, he thought. Kenshin ushered him in. Hurriedly dressed, her black hair still disarrayed, Kaoru greeted him warmly. He was bewildered by their surprise, the snake of fear moving slowly toward his veins. The absence of Misao could only mean two things and he prayed it was because she was still angry with him, but he doubted it. Kenshin warmed up some leftover noodles and he was grateful for the hot food in his empty stomach. They watched him eat, politely waiting for his reason for the visit, waiting for his explanation.

"I expected Misao would be here to greet me," he started. "She must really be furious with me this time to not even leave her room to say hello."

Kenshin and Kaoru's eyes met and Aoshi's stomach churned at the implication. She wasn't here. She and the Broomhead hadn't made it this far. His face paled.

Kenshin broke the silence. "When was she supposed to have arrived?"

"She left yesterday with Cho," Aoshi confessed.

"Cho? That beanbag clown who works for Saito?" Kaoru asked, her eyes flashing at Misao's stupidity.

He nodded. Kenshin stood up and motioned for Aoshi to follow him. "This one thinks it'll take Katsu's help to extract Sano from his entertainment tonight and I think we will need Sano sober-"

"And with some money still in his pocket," Kaoru interrupted.

"If we are to figure out where Cho took Misao," Aoshi finished.

"We don't know that Cho plotted anything evil against Misao-chan," Kenshin argued.

Aoshi snorted in distain. "Yeah and Sagara isn't gambling away his money tonight either," he replied.

"Either way," Kaoru interrupted, "We'll need his and Katsu's help." She shivered; a chill ran down her spine. Concerned, Kenshin stepped toward her, but she motioned him away. "Go, the sooner you get back, the sooner we can find her."

The dice were finally hot for Sano. He only had to blow gently on them and let them flow off the tips of his fingers. It was as if tiny dice fairies were rolling the dice so he won every toss. He was finally ahead. The stack of money in front of him would feed him for a month as well as pay off his debt to Tae. There might even be enough left over to treat the Kenshingumi for a change. He grinned, and shook his black hair out of his eyes. He squeezed the small ivory squares in his big hand until he could feel their sharp corners digging into his palm. Absorbed in the game, he barely felt the presence of the men behind him.

A hand reached past him and scooped up his winnings. Lighting fast, he reacted, grabbing the offender's wrist. "Don't mess with my money or I'll crush your bones to dust," he growled.

The man chuckled in his ear. "Just taking what you owe me, birdbrain, but I'll take you on if you insist. I'm not afraid of your fists."

Sano let go disgustedly and dropped the dice. His luck had run out and he knew it was useless to protest once he heard Katsu's voice. The men he was playing against didn't voice a single protest. He wondered about that until he felt Kenshin's arm on his shoulder.

"Let's go, Sano. We need you," Kenshin said softly.

Sano nodded. He glanced behind him. Katsu, his oldest friend from the days of the Sekihoutai was counting the stack of bills into two piles. Between his two closest friends was Aoshi Shinomori. Indeed, if Aoshi had left his self-imposed monkhood behind, the times ahead would be interesting, more interesting than a simple game of dice, he decided.

The threesome cowed Sano's gambling partners; men who wished to return home to their warm bed and family after a night of gambling, a little poorer, but having survived an encounter with men spoken of in legends without having lost anything important. In fact, no one would think less of them for not having protested the ending of game. Only a fool would wish to earn his name tonight by facing down just one of them, but with all three there, the fun was spoiled. Not a man there would protest the winnings of Sano with these three standing behind him. Katsu handed him half the bills. Sano halved it again and placed one portion on the mat in front of him. He bowed slightly to the men whose money would be footing this new adventure.

"Thank you for a good game. The next round is on me," he spoke softly and the men grinned at his generousness, the hard feelings of the interruptions disappearing. They would hold their heads up high and retell the story of their encounter of the time the four winds gathered in one place until the truth was lost in the frequent telling. They were witnesses to the birth of a fable that their grandchildren would beg to hear over and over, and they would tell how tall and glorious the winds looked, as they gathered the reluctant wind into their fold before they march off into battle, like the ancient warriors of the past. Yes, they were there the night the four men straddling the time between the past and the future blew in and out, a whiff of hope and peace left behind them.

Katsu shoved the reluctant wind towards the door, "And that Sano, is why you never have any money and have to keep borrowing from me," he chided the gambler.

The men laughed and Sano grinned. "With you as my banker, some day I'll be rich," Sano proclaimed loudly.

Outside in the night air, the four men walked back to the dojo. After filling Sano in on the missing Misao, they seriously considered their options as they walked. There was an easy camaraderie between them, a simple give and take and ease with each other. They'd tested one another more than once in countless adventures and found each other strong and worthy.

Even Aoshi with his frozen exterior thawed when surrounded by the rest, as if he couldn't resist their pull toward the warmth of friendship. He would have rather searched for Misao himself since he was the one who was responsible for her safety, but he knew Kenshin was right about needing all four of them. Since there was no way of telling at which stop Cho and Misao had gotten off at, it would take some serious grunt work and a bit of luck to figure out what had gone wrong.

Aoshi looked at each man as they discussed the best way to solve the puzzle. Katsu, the artist/writer/ recluse revolutionary; Katsu with his connections and knowledge of gun powder would break through barriers that might take them precious time otherwise. Without Katsu's skills, Misao might die before they reached her. Sano with his fist of steel and unwillingness to ever concede defeat; Sano's loyalty and doggedness would keep driving them past the breakpoint, if need be. You knew that you didn't have to worry about distractions when Sano was fighting at your side. He would keep you focused on your task while he settled the sidebars himself. And Kenshin? It was more than Kenshin's skill with a sword that made Aoshi glad to have him by his side. Kenshin brought the wind of hope into the arena when there was no reason to have any hope left.

Aoshi smiled a thin smile. What do you do when it's not enough that you protect the ones you're responsible for, Jiya? You surround yourself with men strong enough to help you do the job! He replied mentally. A pang for the men he'd lost struck his heart and he found their names on his lips. The faithful servants who died protecting him; Beshimi, Hannya, Hyottoko, Shikijou. He recited their names softly as if invoking their protection once more. Sano looked over at him and nodded approvingly. The men surrounding him tonight were not faithful servants, but faithful friends, and would die if was required in order to protect the one he'd been unable to protect alone. Just like the time he lost Misao in the woods and couldn't find her alone, he needed the help of these men now.

They were as different as the four seasons: Aoshi with winter in his heart, Sano with summer in his step, Katsu with autumn in his soul, and Kenshin with spring in his spirit. Shimomori with his twin kadachis, Sanosuke with his Futae no Kiwami Fists, Katsu with his love for dynamite, and Himura Kenshin with the legendary reversed blade sword, the sakabotou-shinuchi, men with unlikely weapons and strong hearts. They were a formidable force as if they were the undefeated four winds, and they were out to protect their own.


	5. Imitation's Boring

Chapter 5: Imitation Is Boring

However, according to the youngest member of the Kenshingumi, the circle of defenders wasn't complete until he joined it, and he was outraged to find the men deep into the final plan when he awoke the next morning. Yahiko knew something wasn't right when he found the men eating Kaoru's burnt breakfast without complaining, as they researched each city along the train line. Maps spread out on the floor, empty bowls next to them, a plan was finally jelling. He butted in between Sano and Kenshin to peer at the maps, and Sano grabbed his head and rubbed the top of it, before gently pushing the young teenager out of his line of vision.

Still rubbing sleep from his eyes, he stomped out into the kitchen where Kaoru was busy preparing food for the journey. "Why are the Ice King and that Artist Friend of Sano's here, Kaoru?" he grossed. She handed him a bowl of rice with a slightly runny egg on top. He dug in. "And what's with all the maps?"

Kaoru wiped her hands on a towel and smiled at the boy in front of her. He was growing so fast lately that he was all elbows and limbs. His skills with the bokken were developing nicely and she wasn't sure how much longer he'd be content to stay at home with them. She could feel him chaffing for a chance to test himself. Kenshin had agreed with her assessment that Yahiko needed to tag along on this rescue. One did not train a boy in the power of the sword without letting him learn how to use it. He had never lost his street smarts and might be a real asset tracking down Misao. His time with the four men would be a valuable addition to his training.

"Misao was coming here two days ago with Cho," Kaoru said lightly.

"With Broomhead?" Yahiko said incredulously. "Misao was coming here with Saito's lackey boy? How come?"

Kaoru smiled. She'd had the same reaction and waited for the implications of her words to sink in.

Yahiko shook his head. "I thought she was all goo-goo eyes for the iceberg in the other room. What possessed her to come here with that creep? Where is she? I'll bang some sense into her thick skull. A couple swift whacks," Yahiko demonstrated the technique he'd use to teach Misao a lesson on an innocent cabbage saving Kaoru from having to shred it later, "and she'll be herself again. Where is she? Still sleeping?" He headed towards the guest room and stopped, a look of comprehension spreading across his face. Resolute, he straightened up, his eyes cold, his childish demeanor temporarily hidden, and a glimpse of the man he'd become radiated throughout his body.

He stood before the four, still deep in planning, and cleared his throat. "I'm in," he announced.

Aoshi shook his head in dismay. There was still too much child in the boy to make him a real asset and would be a distraction. Katsu and Sano didn't object, remembering the training they had gained under the tutelage of their own beloved captain when they were younger than Yahiko. Besides, Sano liked having the kid around. Kenshin smiled, and gestured for the boy to join the circle of men. Quickly, Katsu began filling the youngest member with the current plan under discussion and Yahiko listened, seriously considering the details.

Aoshi remained silent. Kenshin had his own reasons for including the child and Aoshi didn't want to get distracted with secondary discussions. The lad wasn't his student and if Kenshin wanted him to tag along, Aoshi wasn't up to debating it. His shoulder muscles ached and he felt his body stiffening the longer he sat and listened. The dark snake was weaving throughout his body and he needed to capture it and restore it to its den before it paralyzed him.

He excused himself from the group and wandered out into the dusty yard. It felt good to loosen up his body with the morning workout he had done nearly every single day of his life. Focused and concentrating on the feeling of the movements, he moved through the simpler katas, gradually working up to more complicated movements. He increased his speed and tightened up his motions, moving as fluid as water over a waterfall, lost in the joy of the physical outlet. Slowly the snake of fear retreated from his veins, from his heart, from his stomach and back into the tiny ball hidden deep in his soul. It was still there, nudging his conscious, but it no longer had free reign of his body.

Kenshin sat on the step and watched Aoshi work out. He was as fluid and rapid as the first time Kenshin had to fight him. There was death in his body movements, in spite of Aoshi's unwillingness to fight anymore. His ryuusui no ugoki (the waterfall technique) cut through the air as if it was it was one with the air and yet separate at the same time. Lost in the movement, Aoshi was barely aware of the audience. Yahiko sat next to Kenshin and watched the Okashira glide through the air until he was a swirl of color like the ribbon of chocolate in ice cream.

"A thing that cuts through water can cut through something that entangles," Yahiko said, remembering hearing Aoshi say those same words (1), but they were just starting to make sense to him.

"With his double kodachis, the man is a force of nature," Sano said lightly. It'd been a long time since the battle at the drug dealer mansion; the night when Aoshi had lost his faithful servants. Sano had developed a healthy respect for the man's skills that night. It was a sight he'd never forget.

"Not bad for a man who hasn't touched his swords in months," Katsu commented, leaning against the post, watching the master swordsman work out.

Sano looked surprised that Katsu would even bother keeping track of the ex-leader of the leading spy group in the nation. Katsu shrugged. "You never know what you're gonna know," he replied to the unasked question.

A small gray pigeon landed on the exterior fence and peered into the yard. Yahiko ran to retrieve its message. Aoshi began to work through the cool down katas as Yahiko dropped the paper pellet in Kenshin's hand. Shortly, another pigeon arrived, and then another, and another, until there were sixteen paper pellets in Kenshin's hand.

Concerned, Aoshi sent the boy off to find some grain to feed the waiting birds before he opened the first pellet. While the Oniwabanshuu used pigeons frequently to communicate long distance, there was no reason for sixteen to arrive at the Kamiya Kasshin dojo. He had been expecting one from Jiya. But no one knew Misao was missing yet except him. He unrolled the first tiny strip of paper. Misao had been spotted shopping in Ogaki. The second strip found her eating in a restaurant in Yokohama, the next one saw her in Nagoya. Each strip listed her in a different location. There was one left. Disgusted, he threw it down. Sano picked it up and read it, then handed it back to Aoshi.

"You might want to read this one, Shinomori. It's from Okina."

Aoshi stretched out his hand and skimmed the message. "Jiya says he received a message from an old friend of yours, Himura." He handed Kenshin the note.

"Yukishiro Enishi has returned," Kenshin said shortly.

"He is dying," Katsu replied. "He is a toothless tiger."

"He may be toothless, but apparently he has retained some of Gein's skill with puppets," Kenshin answered.

"I hate puppets," Yahiko announced. "They are soooo boring. Give me a real fight scene any day!"

"Puppets, huh?" Aoshi said thoughtfully, "Well, at least we know where Misao isn't. Nice of him to narrow our search."

The men nodded in unison. The time for planning was over.

* * *

1 Aoshi says this to Gein in the manga chapter 216 (Aoshi is at his best in that arc)... and yeah, there are tons of spoilers in my tales... all i can say, is go read/watch! 


	6. My Eyes Are Soakin’

Chapter Six: My Eyes Are Soakin'

The house felt so quiet after the men had left. She spent the morning finishing up the mess from breakfast, and started a load of laundry. Kneeling aside the wooden tub, she scrubbed and the tears on her face mingled with the soap bubbles until she could no longer see the well-worn practice gi she was scrubbing. It's just hormones, she thought. Megumi warned me I'd feel like this. She shook off the sadness and hung the freshly washed clothing on the line. It felt odd being left behind, but this time there were no other options. She hadn't even discussed the possibility of going with Kenshin, and he was grateful for her common sense for a change. But she hated being left behind and wished she'd begged Yahiko to stay behind. No, she was glad he had gone. There was no use being spoiled acting. She leaned against the post on the front steps and watched the wind weave in and out in the cherry tree. Megumi was coming soon to check on her and she'd convince the woman to stay for supper, maybe even the night.

The nights ahead would be the worst. Every creak, every rattle would remind her of how alone she was. She would lay awake for hours, worrying about the safety of the one who always put others first. Kaoru knew that with Sano and Aoshi with him, he'd be safe, but there was always that fear that he'd not return one day. She felt silly hiding his favorite practice gi in the closet with the bedding, but the smell of his sweat was comforting and lulled her to sleep without the monsters chasing her in her dreams. She knew she'd need it with her to make it through the long days and even longer nights.

She laughed, remembering Sano's face when he confronted her about her not going right before they left and she finally confessed to the real reason for her having to stay behind.

"Jo-chan, I can't believe you're staying home. When we find Misao, she's going to need you with her,' he fussed, running his hands through his spiky hair like he did when she frustrated him. She handed him a packet of food to stash away, and he stowed it away angrily. "What's with you, Kaoru? It's not like you to not want to come with us."

She smiled at him and patted his arm. "Not this time, Sano. You'll watch out for him, won't you?"

He grumped around the room. "Don't I always?"

She leaned up and kissed his cheek. "It's twice as important this time, Sanosuke. We both need him to return home safe."

His eyes grew big and he found himself staring at her belly, and then looking away, blushing. He was speechless and oddly shy, as if he was unsure of what to say or do. She laughed at the big lug and hugged him. "So you'll bring him home again to us, dear?" she asked softly.

He gently returned her hug as if she was a fragile porcelain doll and nodded seriously. "I will bring him back to both of you," he promised. "But you'll be alright by yourself? You want me to ask Tsubame to stay with you until we return?"

She smiled at his concern, and shook her head no. "Megumi will check in on me once in a while and I'll be fine. I'm the daughter of a kenshi, the wife of Himura Kenshin, and the owner of the dojo you flop in when you're broke. I can take care of myself. Remember?'

He laughed and rubbed his head; her quick temper often left lumps behind.

She laughed out loud, remembering his silly face when he finally understood her news, and the blue jay screeched at her for disturbing his meal.

"You sound in good spirits," Megumi said, swinging open the gates. Kaoru ran to hug her.

"Can you stay for supper?" she begged. Megumi smiled and handed her a package.

"Stay, certainly. And it's time you learned to cook, Kaoru. Ready for your first lesson?" They laughed and entered the cool house together.

Misao was feeling like a porcelain doll herself, and she wasn't sure she liked the feeling. She loved the attention and the way Enishi fussed over her, but she wasn't feeling much like herself. She tugged at the beautiful western style clothing, trying to make it quit itching or bunching up when she was alone in the privacy of her room. She stood in front of mirror, not recognizing the woman staring back at her. With her pigtails gone, and her hair carefully arranged, she looked like pictures of her mother that Jiya had shown her when she was little.

And the whole idea of being a mother herself was uncomfortable. How could she be a good mother when she'd never had one? The closest thing she'd had to a mother was Hannya, and she was quite sure that while he'd been a wonderful nursemaid that he didn't know about mothers either. Frustrated and lonely, the tears welled in her eyes. Angrily, she shook them away. Enishi didn't have a mother either, she thought. Well, he at least had his sister, Tomoe, Kenshin's first love. She didn't even have that, and no one she knew was a mother either. What if she didn't like being a mother? What if the baby didn't like her? She'd be a terrible mother! She couldn't even cook! She threw herself on her bed, hiding her face in the pillow. Sobs racked her body.

She was crying so hard she didn't hear Enishi open the door or sit beside her. His hand on her back, he patted her gently until the sobbing started to fade a little. His mind anxiously searched for what could have made her so unhappy. Everything was falling apart and he didn't know how to fix it. Was it too much? Was he overwhelming her? Was she homesick? What? What had gone wrong? He'd planned everything so carefully. It couldn't end like this.

"Don't cry, Mi-chan, don't cry! Nothing is so bad that we can't solve it, but I can't fix it if I don't know what's wrong." He pulled her toward him and leaned her against his chest. "You gonna' tell me what's wrong, or do I have to start guessing? Here, dry your eyes and blow your nose." He handed her a handkerchief. She blew her nose, and dabbed at the tears still flowing down her face. She screwed up her face, and started sobbing again. He listened carefully, trying to make sense of the words between the hiccups and tears.

"I'm gonna' be the worst mother in the entire universe," she sobbed.

He bit back a laugh. She was worried about motherhood before she'd even decided if she liked him. He comforted her, murmuring sweet words of endearment, struggling to hide the chuckle in his voice.

His hands longed to free her hair from its fancy entanglements and run his fingers through it until they became completely caught in its embrace. He ached for the feel of her bare skin under his finger tips. But he'd learned the dance early and knew a sudden action would make her skitter away from his grasp, maybe forever, so he chose to demonstrate his extreme self-control and he continued to comfort the girl-woman he'd chosen to mother his child. If only time wasn't so short. If only she didn't need all these fancy dance steps. He bit back a sigh and felt her sobbing lessening.

"You haven't exercised since we arrived home," he said, distracting her. "I just stopped by to see if you wanted to join me in the practice hall. No use either of us growing rusty. Look," he offered her a brown package. She dried the rest of her tears, and took the package, curious at what was inside.

Sitting next to her, he watched, amused by her reaction to the gift. She shook it and listened for a rattle, but he made sure what was inside was well protected. "Go ahead, open it!" he begged, eager to see a smile back on her face.

Her fingers broke through the string and she shredded the brown paper. A new practice gi, aqua to match her eyes, peeked out of the paper. She shrieked and grabbed it out of the paper, almost dancing to the mirror to hold it up in front of her. "It's perfect!" she squealed.

He grinned at her enthusiastic reaction and pointed back at the paper. "There's more," he said, smiling and anticipating her next reaction. He couldn't remember ever feeling quite so happy before. She bounced back on the bed and searched the paper before uncovering a purple velvet carrying case. Nervously, she untied and unrolled it. Confused, her eyes searched his face for a clue. He nodded at the perfectly balanced tobikunai. "We can't practice if you don't have your throwing knives, Mi-chan."

Her chin quivered and her eyes filled up again. "But? But?" she couldn't finish the question.

"I know they aren't yours. We're still looking for Cho and when we find him, we'll find your own set, I'm sure. But these will do. They are finely made and I think you'll like the fit in your hands. Try them and see," he encouraged.

Misao pulled one out and let it lie in her palm, feeling the familiar feel of the cold metal against her warm skin. Her fingers traced the elaborate design. Tears fell on it, and she rubbed them off feverishly, worried they'd rust or pock the shiny metal.

"It's not like I kidnapped you or anything," he said, nonchalantly. "We agreed you could leave whenever you felt like it, so why shouldn't you have your weapons with you."

He wasn't prepared for the body slam as Misao launched herself into his arms, her arms wrapped around his neck, her hot tears running down his collar. He wasn't prepared for the stirring of emotions deep inside the sleeping tiger, emotions he couldn't remember ever feeling before. He couldn't remember the last time he felt his own tears welling up in his own eyes. He swallowed and blinked, hoping the girl in his arms wouldn't notice.

She wiped them away with her well-formed fingers, and kissed the corner of his eyes, as if that would chase them away forever. Her warm lips kissed his eyelids and his cheeks, and finally his mouth. "I think I'm staying," she said softly.

He cleared his throat. He searched for words, but there were none left in his vocabulary. She kissed him again. He pushed her away gently but firmly.

"Don't," he started, and then stopped, "Don't say it if you're not sure," he finished firmly.

She looked at him, deep into his eyes, past his suave personality, past his violent history, past the pain of losing his sister, deep into the pool of fear in the center of his soul, and she nodded. She stood up and brushed the wrinkles off her dress. "When I finally say it, I'll be sure," she promised. "No games, no lies."

He nodded back, dismayed by her sudden departure. "No lies, no games," he repeated. He took a deep breath and centered himself.

"Let's go try out your knives," he suggested. "I'll meet you in the practice room in fifteen minutes."

He leaned outside her door, regrouping, unsure at how the child had managed to penetrate his barriers so effectively. "No lies, no games," he muttered to himself. That was a promise he wasn't sure he would be able to keep, and he wondered if she'd forgive him for his transgressions.


	7. When They Scold

Chapter 7: When They Scold

The room in the inn definitely had that "occupied by men with other things on their mind" look as well as that slight musty smell of too many men in one space. Sano's winnings couldn't have come at a better time, but after a week of riding the train between Kyoto and Tokyo and stopping at each stop searching for any real clues, their money was beginning to run low. This rundown inn half way between the two cities was off the tourist path, and the perfect place to regroup when they needed it. No one would care or notice their irregular hours and infrequent occupation and its low fees stretched their cash. They had split up days ago, returning to this temporary base when they were exhausted and needed a place to crash for a couple hours. Sano and Katsu had arrived earlier to get some well needed rest after being out over 36 hours. They were meeting with the rest in a few hours to discuss the next step.

Sano was out cold. His arms and legs were outstretched, hanging over the mat, and his loud snoring wasn't helping Katsu's mood or feelings of restlessness either. He turned over and pulled his own cover over his head to block the noise. It sounded like a bullfrog was in the room with them and he needed some sleep desperately. He kicked his old friend not so lightly; Sano rolled over, and the snoring subsided. His eyes wide open, Katsu revisited every step, searching for the missing piece. Sano's half croaking, half wheezing snore jerked him back to reality.

He laid in the dark, listened to Sano snore and felt envious of Sano's ability to sleep anywhere. When they were kids on the field with Captain Sagara, Sano would curl up against a rock and sleep through the loud political discussions. But not Katsu. He was always too afraid he'd miss something, and would stay awake until he'd nearly fall from exhaustion and had to be ordered to bed by the Captain.

Retracing their steps mentally, he knew they'd seen something important, but he couldn't figure out what. Exasperated by his lack of ability to either sleep or think, he sat up and rubbed his eyes fiercely. He'd go take a bath and think while he was soaking, he decided, stepping over Sano's limbs to gather up his belongings.

Lost in his own thoughts, he didn't hear Kenshin enter the water. At three train stops yesterday there were almost no people waiting to catch the train, but there were porters loading cart after cart of luggage and police watching, he remembered. "How much luggage does the average traveler carry?" he wondered, unaware he had spoken out loud.

"Depends on the traveler," Kenshin replied.

He jerked back to reality. Embarrassed by his rudeness, he started to apologize, but Kenshin focused on the question he'd inadvertently asked.

"For example, men might carry one or two bags, but not much more. Women have a tendency to bring more. Why?"

Katsu explained about the porters he had seen at nearly empty stations.

Kenshin thought a minute. "The real question is why are police officers guarding luggage?"

Katsu frowned. Kenshin noticed and motioned for him to share his thoughts. "I don't believe in coincidences, that's all," Katsu replied shortly. Kenshin laughed.

"Me either. You're thinking that it's no coincidence that Misao was traveling with Cho when she disappeared?"

Katsu grunted in agreement. Kenshin nodded. They soaked quietly, thinking about the implications. Reluctant to leave the warm water, feeling all the tension of the last few days soaking out of him, Katsu leaned back and rested his head against the edge. His eyes closed briefly.

The racket in the courtyard made Kenshin sigh and step out of the pool. Katsu opened his eyes briefly.

Kenshin nodded at the noise getting louder. "Yahiko," he explained. Katsu nodded and closed his eyes again, a small smile of satisfaction that Yahiko wasn't his responsibility on his face. It was a very tiny smile, but Kenshin saw it just the same.

"Get off me! Let me down! I can walk! What's your problem, Iceman?" Yahiko's protests were growing louder and closer to the bath area. Kenshin shook his head as he wrapped a towel around his still damp body. Yahiko had great potential, he thought, for being a pain in the butt some days.

He opened the door to the bathroom and let Aoshi calmly stroll in with a kicking, pounding Yahiko tucked under his arm like a football. He ceremonially dropped the screaming brat into the water. The splash drenched Katsu who scrambled out of the water, wide awake and dashing for a towel. Kenshin handed him one as the three men watched the youngest member of their troop flounder in the water, coughing and choking, his arms and feet flailing incessantly, still cussing Aoshi out but it was muffled by the amount of water he was swallowing in the attempt.

"Guess where we've been for the last five hours," Aoshi said gruffly.

Katsu toweled his hair dry and grinned. He could guess, but it was much more fun watching Yahiko thrash in the water.

"I didn't do it," Yahiko protested, finally standing upright.

Amused, Kenshin hid his smile and frowned at the youngster. "Didn't do what?" he asked sternly.

"Apparently, your young student here thought it would be a good idea to investigate the police station," Aoshi began.

Yahiko interrupted, "Well, it worked the last time Misao and I needed to find Saito." (1)

"It didn't work that time either, brat!" Aoshi exclaimed, "And that time, at least you and Misao dressed up like you were delivering sushi. You didn't need to wear a kimono LAST time!"

Confused, Kenshin stepped between them. "Last time?" he asked, "How come I don't know about last time?"

The question stopped Aoshi and Yahiko cold. Last time Kenshin had given up all belief in his ability to protect those whom he loved and had taken up residency in Rakuminmura, the last retreat for those who had thrown away their lives. (2) The silence deepened. Yahiko looked at Aoshi, his sad eyes begging him to do the explaining. Aoshi sighed.

"You were," Aoshi paused and cleared his throat, "unavailable at the time." Yahiko clambered out of the bath, dripping wet, making a huge puddle of water on the floor under his feet. Katsu tossed him a towel as he started shivering.

"Unavailable?" Kenshin asked, still bewildered.

"As in you gave up and ran away," Aoshi said bluntly.

Kenshin paled. "Aoshi!" protested Yahiko, "you don't need to say it that way. It's when you were in Rakumin-" he began.

A long, lanky arm went around Kenshin's shoulder, and Sano leaned over him. "You all make way too much noise. How's a guy supposed to sleep?" He yawned, and looked at the soaked Yahiko, the kimono sagging off his shoulders, and laughed, "Cute outfit, Yahiko, but you're still not my type!"

Yahiko scowled and Sano laughed again. "I'm hungry. You want to stand around all day talking about ancient history, or you want to go get some soba?"

Kenshin glared at Aoshi. "You and I have some catching up, Shinomori, and this time, you're telling me everything."

Aoshi shrugged. "Anytime you're finally ready to hear the truth, Himura," he said sternly.

* * *

1 In the manga in Chapter 213, Yahiko and Misao barge into the police station dressed as food delivers but Saito recognizes them right away. It is Aoshi who had to rescue them that time too.

2 In the manga, Enishi tricks Kenshin into thinking that he'd killed Kaoru. Kenshin, in total despair, went to Rakuminmura where Yahiko or Misao couldn't reach him. Aoshi was convinced that it was a trick and took over from Yahiko's clumsy attempts to find the missing Kaoru. (vol 23-24)

If you haven't read these, I recommend that you read miago-chan's translations online at http: Note: Misao is the one character in the anime who dressed up in Western Clothing at least once. Plus there are a fewhurts that go deep in a woman, and one of them is the loss of a mother which is usually triggered by the thought of being a mother herself. But that's my own opinion! Keep reviewing! It makes me a better writer!


	8. Every Stinkin’ Bum

Chapter Eight: Every Stinkin' Bum

Everything seemed back to normal by the time they finally made it to the restaurant for supper, but they were all a little quieter than usual. All of them, except Sanosuke, who walked with more of a bounce in his step than usual and he had a whistle on his lips. His cheerfulness made everyone feel a little more out of sorts, a little angrier, a little sadder, but Sano didn't seem to notice. He ordered for everyone and flirted with the waitress, telling her she reminded him of the waitress back home. He ignored everyone else's foul mood, and ate with gusto.

Totally annoyed, Aoshi glared at Katsu, as if Sano's behavior was in some way his fault. "Can't you tone him down some? He's annoying everyone in the place."

Katsu glared back. "No!" he replied shortly.

"I bet he has a gambling game today," complained Yahiko.

Sano ignored them and ordered another plate of noodles.

"You act like we have a ton of money," groused Katsu. "Remember it's getting low!"

But Sano just smiled at the criticism and slurped up another noodle.

"Yahiko, tell me what happened today," Kenshin said firmly, pushing back the bowl he'd been stirring aimlessly with his chopsticks for the last ten minutes.

Yahiko sighed, trying to figure out where to begin his story. Aoshi nudged him. "Tell him where you got the kimono from, brat." Yahiko glared at him, but his dinner mates stared at him waiting for the tale.

Sano grinned, eager to hear the details of the story that ended up with Yahiko being dumped in the bath by Aoshi. It had to be a good one, he thought. Few people could get the cold one to show that emotion. Leave it to Yahiko!

"It occurred to me that the only person who knew where either Cho or Enishi might be was Saito and the only place to find out where Saito was the police station," Yahiko began.

"Yokohama," Kenshin interrupted.

"What?" Yahiko blurted out.

"Saito is in Yokohama. I was going to suggest we go there tomorrow."

"Apparently, Yahiko, you weren't the only one who thought that tracking down Hajime Saito was a good idea," Katsu said dryly.

"Hai," Sano agreed, "and he didn't have to dress up like a girl to get the information either."

Yahiko's face turned a brilliant red and he scowled.

Aoshi kicked him lightly. "Go on, brat. Tell your sensei where you got the dress," he directed.

Yahiko looked down at his feet and mumbled.

"Speak up," Aoshi commanded, "He can't hear you."

"I 'borrowed' it from the old lady selling apples, but I was gonna return it, until this one ruined it," he cried, pointed to Aoshi with his chopsticks.

"Borrowed, as in took without asking," Aoshi elaborated. "Apparently the young genius here thought it would be a good idea to waltz into the police station wearing a stolen dress, not knowing the apple lady was there to report her loss." An amused Aoshi's dark eyes twinkled at the memory of seeing Yahiko running in the police station being chased by an old woman screeching at him.

Sano snorted, unable to retain his laughter. It was contagious and the whole table burst into laughter. Yahiko sulked.

"It was good idea," he started. The men burst into laughter again. "Well, it would have been a good idea," he tried again, but they were laughing too hard to listen to his explanation.

"I walked in as the old lady was screaming at him and five police officers were trying to tackle him," Aoshi added. "Here's this old lady yelling, 'Stop, thief! Gimme back my dress!' and Yahiko has yanked up the skirt nearly to his chin so he could run faster and is evading, not one, not two, but five police officers."

"I would have got away too," Yahiko muttered, "if you hadn't been in the way!"

"The brat ran into me, full force," Aoshi explained. "Almost knocked me off my feet."

The table roared with laughter. "Five hours and three hundred yen later in fees and we finally got to come home." Aoshi complained.

"You didn't have to carry me all the way home!" Yahiko protested. "I could have walked!"

"Oh no," Aoshi said, "There was no way I was letting go of you until we got back. No telling what stunt you'd pull next time!"

The laughter subsided. More than a few tears of laughter were wiped from their eyes.

Katsu nodded at Aoshi, "And you?" he asked, "What did you learn during those five hours?"

The table became somber instantly. Aoshi's eyes darkened. "I suspect that Enishi is shipping weapons from Shanghai into Japan using the railway, and there is a strong possibility that he's bought off a huge number of the police officers to accomplish the task."

"Your proof?" Katsu prodded.

"Several of the local police officers are sporting slightly more expensive clothing than usual, and some of them were discussing the extra hours they were working off the clock. They mentioned working at the rail yards, and with the extraordinary amount of luggage being shipped lately, it only makes sense." Aoshi finished.

The men nodded. "That means he's most likely shipping them in from Yokohama," Sano said.

"Which is why Saito is located in Yokohama," completed Katsu.

"If we find Saito, will he know where Cho is?" worried Yahiko.

"Most likely," Kenshin said.

"But don't count on it, little one." Katsu said. "Remember Cho has a long history with the underground. He knows more criminals than you have hair on your head."

They talked a bit longer about their own plan of action. Exhausted, Yahiko placed his head on the table. Sano nodded at the kid sound asleep. "I'll take him back to the inn," he offered. "I'm heading that way."

Aoshi smiled. "And after you put him in his bed?" he questioned, his eyebrows raised slightly.

Katsu sighed and stood up. "Don't worry! I'll keep him out of trouble."

Sano grinned and scooped the sleeping boy. "Let's go, Katsu! I smell Lady Luck in the air tonight."

Kenshin watched the three leave the restaurant. It was just him and Shinomori left at the table. He ordered more tea. Aoshi stood up to leave and Kenshin motioned him to stay. He sat back down.

"Are you finally ready to hear the truth about what happened while you were in Ru-"

Kenshin cut him off. "What I want to hear is why you took care of those I was responsible for when I wasn't able," he said firmly.

Aoshi sipped the hot tea carefully, and stared the swordsman across the table from him. "What do you do when your good isn't good enough? When you fail to protect those you are responsible for protecting?" he asked seriously.

Kenshin blushed. He and Aoshi both knew what he did when he failed to protect Kaoru, when he thought his beloved was dead at Enishi's hand. He quit. He gave up and went to the place where failed samurai gathered. He wished he was dead, and he quit living. He was barely conscious of the times Yahiko and Misao visited him, begging him to return to the life he had lived, begging for assistance they needed so desperately. He didn't remember little Tsubame pleading with him to come save Yahiko who was in a life or death battle. He failed. Rakuminmura was the last retreat where he could die alone and forgotten.

Aoshi gave him time with his memories, reliving his own time of failure when he lost his most faithful servants to Takeda Kanryu's Gatling gun.

Finally, Kenshin spoke. "There was an old bum who sat with me when I was lost in Rakuminmura. His name was Oibore, and he was a weak samurai who lost both his daughter and son. He said that if you live long enough, you will lose a lot. As long as you don't throw them away, you will be able to recover them. He said that what I had lost wasn't thrown away and that some day I would be able to regain it because I hadn't taken the step of throwing it away yet." (1)

Aoshi was silent, waiting for the rest. Kenshin sighed. "He told me that even in my madness, I was still gripping my sword and that I refused to let go of it."

A long silence and then Kenshin began again. "You lose what's most precious to you . . . exhaust yourself body and soul. But if you have something you can't bring yourself to throw away, whatever anyone says, that's your only truth. When he said that, I learned the one truth I was trying to forget." He paused.

"Which was?" Aoshi prodded, to keep him talking.

Kenshin nodded at his sword again. "There is only one thing I can do and that is to protect the happiness of the people in front of me. If it takes my sword to protect them and to ease their suffering, then I can't leave them in their misery. I must take care of them. And that is my answer, Aoshi Shinomori. It is the only answer I have."

"It is a good answer," Aoshi replied. He stood up. "It's late, Himura, and we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow."

Kenshin nodded and rose to his feet. "You haven't answered my own question, Aoshi. The next time we talk like this, I would like an answer."

Aoshi bowed slightly, thinking, "Me too, Kenshin. I have been searching for an answer to that question for a long time."

* * *

1 Manga Vol 25. Chapter 224All of Oibore's comments to Kenshinis adapted from the manga... go read it! 


	9. Status Seekers

Chapter Nine: Status Seekers

Working out together, eating simple meals quietly, walking in the garden side by side but not touching; she was aware of his presence as well as his absence during the times they were apart. Unable to decide about his proposition, unsure of her feelings, one question burned in her doubtful eyes. She couldn't find a way to reconcile the image of the man she knew from the stories and the man she was falling in love with. She knew his past, and was aware that his present occupation probably wasn't legal, but the question that remained in her heart wasn't about how she could be attracted to him so strongly, but was a more basic one. One every girl falling in love asks herself frequently. The answer can make or break the relationship, and she didn't want to ask it, afraid of the answer. She buried it deep, unaware of its reflection in her eyes.

Her favorite time of the day was the time they spent in the practice hall. He was the best teacher she'd ever had, taking time to correct minute errors interfering with her mastering a skill. He'd demonstrate a new kempo (1) form, walk her through the movement, repeat it again at her side so she could watch his movements carefully, and then kneel off to the side while she practiced, offering encouraging advice.

"Watch that palm. Straighten it out flat. Lift that heel slightly higher, turn with your toes on the floor, good," he'd say. "You have it. Try it again faster. Good. Again. Faster."

Flushed, she'd bow slightly and follow his directions. She was flattered that he took her skills seriously and didn't laugh at her failures or at her occasional loss of balance. She'd fallen more than once in the middle of a complex series of moves and he'd rushed to her side to make sure she wasn't hurt. Reassured that she wasn't seriously injured, he'd point out where she'd failed and make her try again, unwilling to let her quit.

During the afternoon while he was away conducting business, she'd return to the practice hall and drill until she'd completely mastered the newest form. Bruised and sore, she'd limp off to the bath to soak away the pain, content with her progress. If she decided to stay, she'd have to give up everything else she loved, she knew. There was no way she would be accepted by her friends after consorting with the enemy, and she couldn't risk his overtaking the Oniwabanshuu, so she'd have to resign her leadership.

Maybe that wasn't a bad thing, she thought, soaking after a particularly rough practice session. Maybe this is what Aoshi-sama (2) needed to reclaim his role in the Oniwabanshuu. Maybe her taking over was the excuse he needed to abdicate his responsibility. But regardless of Enishi claiming this was a business deal, there wasn't any way the two organizations could be co-mingled wisely as far as she could figure out. For her, it was all or nothing, and she needed to decide soon before she became so entangled that it was like bubble gum left in the hair overnight.

The amount of time he was spending with the girl was interfering with his current project, yet he couldn't bring himself to decrease it. He longed to be able to leave everything else behind and spend more time with her. He was sure, or at least, he suspected, that if he could focus just on her, she'd relent and then life could go back to normal. But deep in his soul, far from any place he chose to examine, a small flame of hope burned. He didn't recognize it because he'd lived without hope for a long time, since he was a boy really. Time was growing short and he needed an answer soon, but he was afraid if he pushed too hard, she'd say no and want to leave him. Would he be able to honor his agreement and let her leave if she chooses to go home? He only honored his word when it suited and it would not suit to have her leave. Could he let her go? He asked himself when he should have been concentrating on other things. He'd never intended to let her go, but that was before-. Distracted, he shook off his thoughts, and returned to the progress of his business. His head pounding, he poured out a couple small blue pills, and swallowed them dry. Business first, he thought, or there'll be nothing left to bargain with when the time comes.

The meal time that night was quiet, the unspoken questions reflecting in their eyes, each too afraid of the answer to speak much in case the question bubble to the surface, destroying the tiny flame of love and hope in one swift wind.

"How was your afternoon work session?" he asked tentatively, tired, his head still pounding.

She nodded, worried by his distance, "Fine," she replied.

He sipped his fine wine, and looked at her over the rim. Her dancing eyes quiet and dark, almost sad, made his head pound more. His left eye twitched and he closed it, trying to bring the uncontrollable muscle spasm under control.

"Are you feeling alright tonight, Enishi?" she asked concerned by his pale face being even whiter than usual.

He set the glass down gingerly, "Just a headache. It'll pass," he answered back, standing up.

"Jiya says that most headaches come from your ki (3) being blocked," she said cheerfully. Her eyes lit up as she spotted the chrysanthemum flower arrangement near the doorway. "I know! I'll fix you Jiya's homemade cure. Can I use some of the flowers from that arrangement? It won't look the same when I'm finished."

He smiled at her excitement, and then flinched as a wave of nausea swept over him, leaving him swaying slightly from dizziness. Concerned, she darted to his side and put his arm around her shoulder, steadying him. He started to pull away from the contact, but she frowned and he relented, letting the small slip of the girl steer him toward the sanctuary of his room.

She covered him with a blanket, and started to leave to make Jiya's homemade headache remedy, better for curing a headache from too much sake the night before than the pain in Enishi's head. He wasn't sure he wanted to try it anyways. He had his own remedy and he'd take another couple pills in a few hours, having been warned about taking them too close together. "Don't go," he called to her. She paused at the door. "Come talk to me," he begged.

"Won't my voice make your headache worse?" she asked, surprised. "Aoshi-sama always says I make his head ache."

"Shinomori is a fool," he muttered, so softly she couldn't hear. "Stay," he pleaded, surprised by the longing in his own voice.

She settled down next to his side, in the dark room. The stillness between them was more comfortable than the silence during the meal. He found himself wanting to know more about her.

"Tell me something that happened to you when you were little," he said, covering his eyes with his forearm to block out even the smallest glint of light. "Tell me something you haven't told anyone else." Her voice floated in the air above him and he pictured the scene as she talked.

"One day when I was young, I was playing hide and seek with Aoshi-sama in the woods. Every time it was my turn to hide, he would find me and it made me really angry. 'Quit finding me,' I yelled at him."

"It's how the game is played," he countered. "I am supposed to find you."

"I will hide in the best place in the entire world," I shrieked at him, "and you will never find me." He laughed at me and started counting. I watched him carefully. He was peeking! I couldn't believe he was cheating, so I hid some place easy, and then when he quit peeking, I moved to my real hiding spot. But first, I left a trail for him that lead him the wrong way. I left one of my shoes for him to find far away from my secret hiding place. That will teach him to cheat, I thought. I went far under a big bush. I heard his voice calling me far away, but I didn't answer. The sun was warm and I must have fallen asleep. It was late in the day before he finally found me. I thought he was never going to find me that day. I thought he was lost forever."

"Later, I found out that all of the Oniwabanshuu had been searching for me. They thought I had drowned in the lake. Jiya told me that I couldn't play Hide-N-Seek with Aoshi-sama any more because I had learned to hide too well." She sat calmly at the end of the story, wondering why she'd chosen that memory to tell the man in front of her.

"What color shoe?" Enishi asked.

"Red," she responded, surprised she'd remembered the detail so vividly.

The shadows darkened, and she sat in the darkness, next to him. He couldn't see her face in the darkness, and she took a deep breath before asking her question.

"Why me?" she said faintly, so low that he almost missed the question. He knew instantly that this was the one he'd seen in her eyes during the meal.

"Why not?" he retorted flippantly, knowing it was unfair of him to treat it so lightly.

"You are a wealthy powerful man, Enishi-san," she said firmly. "You could have a beautiful woman with porcelain skin whose hands weren't calloused by the feel of weapons in her hands. Her hair would be neat and in place, never escaping its braids unruly. She could be delicate and soft, with a laugh that was polite. She could be-"

"A money grubbing fool," he interrupted. "A status seeker who would only take and never give! A weakling who couldn't protect her own. She would be beauty on the arm but useless!" The bitterness in his voice encircled them like a cobra waiting for the kill. "That's the kind of woman you'd want for the mother of your child? The last of your family line? You think that I would be happy with a woman like that? I've known women like that." He stopped, the anger making his head pound more. She put her cool fingers on his forehead, feeling the throbbing in her hands. She rubbed the sides of his head in a circular fashion until the throbbing started to decrease slightly.

"I am the last of my family," he whispered. "There will be no one left when I am gone and maybe that won't be a bad thing after all. My family line has been cursed since I was born. My mother was too delicate to have children and my birth killed her. My father was a weak samurai who let his children be used by stronger men for their own purpose. My sister -" he quit talking, lost in his memories. "My sister loved me," he continued after a bit, "but not as much as she loved another person, and when she died, I had no one." He shoved her hands aside roughly and rolled away. The cobra struck. "Go home, Makimachi-san," he said roughly. "Go home before you are cursed too. Maybe then, the Yukishiro curse will finally be broken."

Frozen, feeling the venom flowing in her veins, tears flowed down her face. She didn't wipe them away, but let them flow in hopes they'd purify her blood from the poison running in them. A wall between them that she couldn't scale, she acknowledged defeat.

"If that is what you want, Enishi-chan," she reacted, her voice trembling. "I will go pack."

"Go," he said sharply. "Just go!"

* * *

1 An ancient Chinese no-hold barred fighting system using feet and hands to strike and control the opponent. It is part of the techniques taught by Chinese Shaolin monks and emphasizes the law of the fist. While it doesn't have the classic kata forms, it uses a series of forms emphasizing circular and linear movements and the speed of the strikes is incredibly fast (10+ strikes every few seconds). (and no, I am not anywhere near an expert…. But I do my homework!)

2 sama means Lord. The fact that Misao has reverted back to calling him Lord is a sign she is beginning to distance herself from him emotionally (and not a good sign either!)

3 Energy or spirit to put it in simple terms. It's a little more complex than that, but for a beginner it'll suffice


	10. I Never Cared

Chapter Ten: I Never Cared

She packed swiftly, taking only a few items with her, leaving the western style clothing behind. She folded the aqua gi neatly and placed the velvet case on top of it. Only that which was truly hers was going, she thought fiercely. He'll have no cause to think I only stayed for the possessions. She refused to cry. It is better this way, she chided herself. You can go back home. But deep inside she knew she wasn't going home, not back to the safety of the Aoiya and Jiya's protective hand, not back to resume leadership of her gang. It was no longer the place she needed to be, as if these few weeks with Enishi had made her grow up and ready to be out on her own.

She tried to be angry at him for his rejection, but she understood. She understood more than he realized. She had heard the story of how he watched Kenshin kill his sister and the way it rained red snow until they were covered in blood. She knew his dirty trick on Kenshin, making him think Kaoru was dead when she wasn't, nearly destroyed the swordsman.

The first time she'd seen the white haired man was when he was seeking revenge for his sister's death. He had been determined to kill Kenshin. She had stood with Yahiko and Sano and watched as he nearly defeated the man he accused of murdering his sister, and she had seen the way he was unwilling to kill Kaoru when she stepped between them. Possessed for years by the need for revenge, thwarted in the end, he'd disappeared.

She was well aware that this might be another attempt at revenge and that he could be using her to accomplish some evil task. It was possible that he was lying about dying as well. But, she doubted it. She'd looked beneath his skin, beneath his tiger exterior and had seen a tiny glow. She couldn't be angry with him, but she could mourn the death of that small ray of light in his soul.

She felt his presence at the door, and refused to look at him, pretending to be busy packing, fussing with things that needed no fussing, until she finally ran out things to do to look busy, and picked up the gi and the velvet case. She turned and handed it to him in her outstretched hands. He ignored her actions, and kicked at the floor, his head down.

After To," he stuttered. "After my sister died," he stalled again. Her arms tired of holding the package, she set it down on top of her bag, and sat cross legged on the floor next to it. He slid to the floor as if he was spilled out of an open bottle. She was still, waiting.

"I went back to the Samurai my father was assigned to, but my father was gone, and the one in charge had no use for a weakling, a failure. He traded me and my new owner shipped me off to Shanghai. On the boat, I realized that if I wanted to survive, I was going to have to be tough, so tough that no one would want me because they couldn't trust me when they were finished with me." He stopped and looked at her. Her eyes were liquid blue, he hesitated.

"Are you sure you want to hear this? It isn't nice," he warned. She nodded, and he continued.

"I established my reputation after the first man he lent me to was finished satisfying himself, and I carved him from his chin to his groin while he was sleeping." His dead voice described the murder he'd committed as a child.

He squirmed. "I shouldn't tell you this," he said finally.

"Because I'm a porcelain doll you have to protect from the truth?" she asked sharply, "or because it's ugly and you think I won't respect you when you're finished?"

He hesitated. "Because when you look at me, you won't see me anymore. You will see your memories of the things I've done in my past."

"Do you trust me?" she asked.

Startled, he searched her face for the right answer. "I am learning to," he said finally.

"Me too," she responded quickly.

'I have hurt everyone who has trusted me since Tomoe died," he confessed. "I haven't cared if they lived or died unless it affected my plans. I have killed good people who wanted to love me. I never cared what happened to them. I'm not safe."

She reached over and opened the velvet case. She took out one of the knives he'd had designed especially for her hand. "You didn't give me a toy," she said, her eyes never leaving his. "This is a weapon with one function." He nodded in agreement. The knife left her hand and flew by his face, leaving a welt behind, before slamming into the wall behind him. "You gave me the tools I needed to protect myself. I am not like your mother or Tomoe. I have been trained to do whatever was necessary to protect what is mine and you are aware of my training."

He reached up to wipe away the blood, but his fingers only touched a slight swelling. "You have improved," he said, pleased.

She nodded. "You can only hurt me if I chose to be hurt by you." She retied the ribbons and handed him the precious weapons. "I chose," she said softly.

"No lies, no games?" he replied, huskily, trying to add a little lightness to the discussion.

She smiled. "No lies, no games."

His hands dropped the knives on the floor, the loud thud echoing louder than their heart beats. "Don't go, Mi-chan. Please don't go."

She embraced him, running her fingers through his hair, up and down his neck, as if they had a mind of their own. His fingers nimbly unwound her long braids, freeing them as if they'd been held captive like his soul. Fingers tangled in each other's hair, their lips met and they were lost in the taste. Fear set aside with each article of clothing, trust growing with each exploration, the light inside him blazed.

Contented and happy, he laid next to her, hoping she felt half as satisfied as him. He watched her sleep, and nudged her to see if she was still awake.

She yawned and stretched. He tickled her belly. She laughed and moved closer to him. "The first time I saw you," he said, remembering, "You were so small and mean. You had a huge frown on your face, and the tall one had to hold you back to keep you from jumping into the fray." He laughed and she snuggled deeper. "When Kaoru-san interfered with the battle, I was furious. I wanted to kill her."

"But you didn't," she reminded him.

"Because I couldn't," he said softly. "I couldn't give you a reason for hating me." He kissed her forehead, and smoothed her long hair out of her face.

She bounced up and punched him in the arm so hard it hurt and he yelped in surprise at the attack.

She snuggled back against him as if nothing had happened. She grinned and he couldn't help smiling back. "Now we're even, Mr. Tough Guy!" she declared. "That'll teach you to mess with my friends."

He laughed. A real laugh from deep inside the tiger, finally tamed, still dangerous to others, but tamed by the girl who'd become a woman finally.


	11. Seize the World

Chapter Eleven: Seize the World

The hush of the night made the common sounds seem eerie and out of place. The lapping waves along the shoreline sounded like rolling distant thunder. The voices of men saying goodbye to each other as they left a bar, sounded like it came from another time long ago. Yahiko slowed his breathing down until it didn't sound loud to his ears. In the dark, he couldn't spot his partners, but he knew just where they were, and he waited for the signal to move forward.

Waiting in the dark for the fight was different than the practice sessions in the dojo, but he'd had enough experience with both to not jump the signal anymore. He'd outgrown the desire to charge recklessly into a room. While he wasn't happy about not being the front man, he was content with his assignment, and he waited.

The first time he was told to wait with his hand on his weapon and his eyes scanning for a sign of trouble was a disaster. He had to pee and the longer he waited, the worst it got until he could concentrate no longer and left his position to relieve himself. It was at that exact moment, Kaoru attacked, while he was temporarily incapacitated. He complained bitterly to Kenshin about her unfair tactics.

Kenshin stared at him until he fell silent. "You think every man you fight is going to play by the rules? Learn the rules, and then learn how they are broken." Kenshin walked away. He looked back. "Next time, stay alert."

Ashamed, he practiced until he could maintain the position longer and longer. It was paying off. His mind didn't wander, time no longer slowed down, and he could identify every minor change in the environment. He heard someone scaling the warehouse wall and knew it was Katsu setting his small bombs in position. He saw a slight red glow and knew Saito was sneaking in one more quick puff from his cigarette before settling in.

Saito hadn't acted happy to see the four winds blow into his office, but he had been expecting their arrival. With the young leader of the Oniwabanshuu missing along with his best investigator, Cho, it was only a matter of time before they came searching for him.

Aoshi swept into his office, interrupting his conference with his officers. His threatening manner alarmed them, but Saito waved them down. "Where's that scumbag, Cho?" Aoshi demanded, his hands leaning on Saito's desk, eliminating the distance between them.

Saito dismissed his men, and glared at the intruders. "Good afternoon, Shinomori. I see you've left the contemplative life behind?" A slight tone of amusement mixed with disapproval lingered behind his words.

"Hajime-san," Kenshin bowed slightly. "I'm sure you are aware that Mikimachi-san has disappeared while in the company of your underling."

"Hai!" Saito said shortly. "I have been looking for them."

"When you're not distracted by Enishi Yukishiro"s latest project," Katsu interjected.

Saito smiled thinly. "I would expect no less from the last of the Sekihoutai, Tsukioka Tsunan." He bowed ever slightly toward Katsu.

"Hey," Sanosuke objected.

"Rooster head," Saito said, not quite fondly. "Here for another lesson in defensive maneuvers?"

Sanosuke glared as Katsu motioned for him to stay still.

"Cho?" Aoshi asked again, impatient with the greetings.

Saito leaned back in his wooden desk chair, pulled out a cigarette, and lit it. "Missing," he admitted. "He asked for some vacation days a couple weeks ago and no one has seen him since he got off the train with the little Raccoon."

Aoshi slammed his fist on the desktop and the paper flew in the air from the force. Kenshin bent down and picked up some of the papers lying on the floor, glancing at them quickly before handing them back to Saito. Aoshi wheeled out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Saito raised an eyebrow.

"The Ice Man is thawing?" he inquired.

Kenshin shrugged. "You have a bigger problem than a missing man, Hajime-san."

Saito took a deep drag and watched the red ember blaze briefly.

"You have corrupted officers, and you don't know who you can trust or not trust on the force. And Yukishiro-san is shipping weapons in and out of this port as if he owns the city." Kenshin continued. Saito's eyes blazed like the ember on his cigarette.

Sano stepped up next to Kenshin, and grinned at the police officer. "You need us, Saito. Admit it. We are the only ones you can trust. You may not like us, but you know you can trust us."

Saito ground out his cigarette, and pointed to a point on the map. "Enishi Yukishiro is using this warehouse near dock twelve." They poured over the plans of the warehouse.

Bored by the discussion, Yahiko slipped out of the room and found Aoshi pacing in the hallway. He leaned against the wall and watched as Aoshi began to regain his cold exterior. "She can take care of herself, you know," he said encouragingly.

Aoshi grunted, and then rumpled Yahiko's hair. "They're planning the attack on Yukishiro?" he inquired.

Yahiko nodded.

Aoshi beckoned for him to follow him as he strided toward the exit. "We have a couple hours then. Let's go scope out the city. A good spy doesn't rely on a police officer's information." They walked the city for hours before meeting up with the rest and reviewing the plan.

Now, they were just waiting the signal from Saito to move in. The whistle finally came. A few of Katsu's carefully placed explosives opened the side doors, and Sano took advantage of the confusion to slip in through the back. Yahiko followed, just like he'd been briefed. The fighting out front between Kenshin, Aoshi, and Saito and Yukishiro's guards seemed loud. More of Katsu's explosives rocked the building.

Sano pointed left. Yahiko nodded, and ran down the hallway. Sano watched him briefly and then headed to the right. They made it down to the main storage area ahead of the rest. Sanosuke's seasoned fists took out the few remaining guards with a few well-placed punches.

Yahiko began opening the first crate. He dug through the straw, finding nothing but old bricks. Confused, he searched the crate thoroughly. There was no sign of illegal contraband. Sano started helping opening crates. Most of the crates were opened and searched by the time the rest of the men joined them. Sano busted apart few bricks, suspecting they might be hiding something inside, but the crumbs of clay told him nothing.

Kenshin jammed his sword into the last crate, prying off the lid. Sitting on top of the straw was a child's red shoe. He lifted it up in the air on the tip of his sword.

Aoshi took it off Kenshin's sword, and turned it over and over in his hand. "It's a decoy," he announced, his stomach churning. The message was directed at him, he realized. No one else knew the story of the day he lost Misao, no one except Jiya, Misao, and himself. Everyone else who helped search for the lost tike that day had died years ago.

"When is a tiger most deadly?" Saito asked to nobody in particular.

No one answered. They knew the answer. An injured tiger could do more damage than a healthy one, and this injured tiger was out for blood.

"What does he want?" Yahiko asked. Katsu sat on the edge of the crate and looked at the men.

"The shoe is connected to the girl?" he asked. Aoshi nodded. "So he has the girl and he knew we'd track him here."

"This is the second time he's used decoys," Sano reminded them. "First when the copies of Misao showed up all over Japan, and now with the crates."

"Are you sure he's dying?" Kenshin probed Katsu's initial premise. Katsu nodded.

"A reliable source told me that he was diagnosed the last time he was in Shanghai. They cut him open and then just stitched him close again. The best western doctors told him it was terminal," Katsu said softly. "He's tried Chinese treatment, but he isn't responding."

"How long?" Saito asked.

"Six months to a year," Katsu responded. "But that was over a year ago."

Saito nodded. "I've read reports from the western doctors saying the same thing," he said confirming Katsu's news.

"He's almost out of time," Sano chimed in, "if your reports are right."

"What's he want?" Yahiko asked again, more persistent than before, craving an answer to the riddle.

The men looked at each other, seeing if the other had the answer. Each shook his head.

"It could be anything, Yahiko," Kenshin began. "A man like Enishi Yukishiro has many possible motives."

"Revenge," Saito chimed in.

"Power," offered Katsu.

"Control," said Sanosuke.

"Retribution," presented Aoshi.

"A Legacy," Kenshin said last. They were silent.

Frustrated, Saito sighed, and fiercely kicked the crate where the red shoe had been found. It fell on its side, and the body of the missing Cho rolled out, his throat sliced.

"A bit of them all," Katsu said to the somber group. They nodded. The tiger had begun his assault. The message was clear. He still had his teeth. Beware of the white tiger hiding in the snow.


	12. What My Heart Told Me

Chapter Twelve: What My Heart Told Me

The four winds scattered, continuing to search for the tiger, knowing the end result to mean death if they weren't careful. They agreed to meet at the Aoiya in Kyoto in four weeks with whatever news they had. It was likely that any news of the missing Misao would find its way to her home before any other place.

Katsu headed for Tokyo, the center of the government, to track down any signs of unusual government decisions. It was a long shot, but if Enishi was situating himself as power source, the city would be rampant with rumors for Katsu to mine and shift through until he found the truth.

Sano headed back to the train platform where Cho and Misao were last seen. They'd combed the city before, but he was sure they were missing something. Saito had given him a few new facts that they hadn't turned up themselves and he was committed to finding the young girl before it was too late.

Aoshi returned to the Aoiya to fill Jiya in on the news and to see what the spy network had uncovered. He needed a clear head. He needed time to think and plan the next course of action, and he could send out the Oniwabanshuu to see if they could illuminate Enishi's actions. He knew Misao was still alive, or Enishi wouldn't have sent him the shoe, but wasn't exactly sure what the message was that he was trying to tell Aoshi. It had to be more than the obvious. Anyone could see by the useless crates that they had been following a decoy.

Kenshin and Yahiko went home briefly. They'd been away from Kaoru nearly two months, and the need to check on her was tearing Kenshin apart. He decided to leave Yahiko with her, as much for his own protection as to ease Kaoru's loneliness. He told Yahiko about the baby and his fear of leaving Kaoru alone without protection. As she grew rounder physically, she'd be less able to protect herself, and with Misao still missing, she could be the next target if Enishi was out for revenge. Yahiko nodded, reading the unspoken request in Kenshin's conversation. This fruitless search had matured the boy and Kenshin could see the signs of manhood on his face.

Saito shook his head over their determination to play with fire and was sure he'd hear of at least one of their deaths in the near future. He said good bye, unsure of which one wouldn't return, unsure of which death he'd grieve over more when the news finally reached him. He buried Cho, and began cleaning house, firing any man with any sign of corruptness. He would not be caught again with his pants down, surrounded by men he couldn't trust.

Their arrival at the dojo was comforting. Kenshin's eyes scanning her for any sign of discomfort or illness, but he saw only happiness in her eyes. Yahiko dumped his belongings in his room and headed out the door to check on Tsubame and to give his adult guardians some well-earned privacy.

Kaoru and Kenshin talked late into the night after his return. He told her everything from the red shoe and Aoshi's temper and Cho's death. She listened carefully. He finished telling her the events and waited for her response. She made a pot of tea and poured a cup for each of them, mulling his account in her mind, searching for the connecting thread.

"Yahiko-kun's question is a good one," she started.

Kenshin agreed. "You have trained him well. He is becoming a man of heart and wisdom."

"It's not just my hand," Kaoru reminded him. "He has had the backs of good men to follow and to learn from. He has seen men of heart and wisdom in action and he longs to be worthy of them." They fell silent.

"Who's back did the child Enishi have to follow?" she asked after a while. Kenshin looked startled by the question.

"No one, I guess." Kenshin admitted. "I didn't know him well as a child. His father was a weak man who didn't protect his children."

"All he had was his sister, and she followed her heart instead of being obedient and it cost her everything," Kaoru said softly, afraid of stirring up old feelings in the man she loved. He pondered her words and compared Enishi's childhood to Yahiko's. They were both orphans, abused by men of violence, but Yahiko had found a home in the dojo where he was cherished and loved while Enishi had not been so lucky.

"What does a man who has lost everything want most?" she finally asked, breaking the silence.

It was an easy question for the man who had lost all that mattered to him once. "Love and someone to protect," he answered quickly.

She sighed. "Poor Misao-chan," she replied.

He looked puzzled. "All Misao has ever wanted was to feel loved and she's unprepared for the man who will pour all his lost feelings on to her. Aoshi has been so afraid of making a mistake with her that she couldn't feel his love, and her heart will lie to her," she explained. "She will mistake Enishi's need for love for her own feelings. It may be too late for Aoshi to make amends this time."

Kenshin nodded. "A legacy," he said. "The dying tiger wants to leave a part of himself behind. He doesn't want to be forgotten. He knew that Misao was an innocent girl who was vulnerable and he used Cho to bring her to him. It may be too late for Shinomori to undo his caution." He kissed his wife gently on the forehead, in appreciation of her wisdom.

It didn't feel like a lie to Misao as she watched the man she love sleep restlessly. She kept a cool cloth on his forehead to keep his fever down. Other than the headaches and dizzy spells, he hadn't shown any sign of illness, and she convinced herself that it was a game he had played to break down her barriers. She had found it flattering that he had resorted to childish mind games to break down the obstructions to her heart. She was sure they weren't necessary, and that if he had given her time to get to know him, she would have fallen in love with him anyways.

They were working out in the practice hall as she contemplated telling him that she would have to begin to decrease the strenuous exercises soon. She was waiting until she was completely sure, afraid of his reaction if she was mistaken. Distracted by her own concerns, she didn't see him stumble.

He never missed. His body always obeyed his every command as if he didn't need to think them. She loved watching him flow through the deadly actions, as if he was a gymnast coming off the perfect routine. He outclassed her in his skill level, and some days she'd lean against the wall and watch as he perfected a technique that would take her a lifetime to master, even with him as her teacher.

She heard his body hit the floor and the echoing thump chilled her. Running to him, she found him lying lifeless and bleeding from his nose and mouth. She tilted his head forward, pinching his nose closed with one hand, trying to stop the bleeding from his mouth with her gi. But still it ran, streams of red like a bottle of ink spilling on the floor, staining her clothes and covering her hands. She worked feverishly to decrease the hemorrhaging.

He lost a lot of blood before the river slowed to a trickle and she finally felt it was safe to move him off her lap. Afraid the bleeding would start again if she put him in an upright position, she called for his man servants to carry him in a blanket to his room. He protested faintly, but she covered his mouth with a desperate kiss, and he was silent.

The next few days were scary as the western doctors came and went, leaving medicine she couldn't identify and explanations that as foreign as their dress and bedside manners. She longed to send for Megumi, but she was afraid that Megumi would tell the others where she was, and in his weakened state, he was an easy target.

In and out of consciousness, he conducted business during his rare lucid moments, sending her from his room to sleep while he talked with his people. She was afraid, more afraid than she'd ever been in her life. He was dying and her heart was dying with him. She knew she needed to take better care of herself or the small life growing inside her wouldn't survive, but she was afraid he'd leave while she was absent. She was afraid he'd die all alone, the way he'd been most of his life, except for the last few months. He tried to talk to her about the future and his plans, but she hushed him, not wanting to hear them, not wanting to think about a future that didn't include him.

Alone in her room, she sobbed, grieving and miserable, but the minute she walked back into his, she was composed and cheerful. He could see the tear tracks on her face, but he couldn't bring himself to reproach her for them.

All of the evil things he did in the past swarmed out of his subconscious when he was at his worst. She sat with his head in her lap and hardened her heart, rejecting the ugliness of his words.

"It's not him", she chanted, over the malevolence memories taunting him and filling the room with dark shadows.

"It's not him. The man I love didn't do these things," she repeated over and over as if by just saying the words she could cleanse his sins. He didn't remember the periods of ranting, just the feeling of vomiting and being held safely in Misao's arms.

After a particularly bad session, he was sleeping quietly. Misao laid her head next to his, and let the unbidden tears go. A servant knocked lightly on the door.

"Someone is asking for you," he said.

"Tell him to go away," she said, sitting up and wiping away the tears. "We aren't receiving company today."

"Nonsense," the familiar no-nonsense voice said, pushing by the servant.

Stunned, she watched Megumi set down her bag and kneel next to the bed. She watched her old friend inspect him carefully, watching him breath and feeling his blood flowing through his veins.

"How did you know where I was," she whispered.

"Be silent or leave," Megumi demanded.

Misao sat back silent. Megumi observed him a long time. She nodded off while waiting for her old friend to finish her observations.

Megumi ordered a pot of hot water brought to the room. She opened her bag and added an assortment of herbs to the water before nudging Misao gently. "Drink," she demanded. "This works best when it's hot."

Misao swallowed the bitter tea and shuddered. "What is this?"

"It will give you the strength you need to carry that baby to term and not lose him to this nonsense," Megumi said sharply. Misao's eyes widened.

"Why didn't you send for me?" Megumi scolded. "You think I wouldn't have come?"

Misao blushed. "I thought you tell the others where I am. How did you find me?"

Megumi motioned for her to drink the rest and she obeyed like an obedient child.

"You aren't as alone as you think you are, Misao-chan." Misao's eyes filled with tears, and Megumi handed her a handkerchief. She nodded to the sleeping man. "Your heart chose him?" she asked.

She nodded and the tears returned. Megumi stood up and picked up her bag. "He'll sleep a couple of hours. Send a servant in to stay with him, while I check your own health. Come!" She exited the room and Misao found herself following.

"You need to start taking better care of yourself," Megumi scolded after the check-up, "Or neither of you will survive what is ahead."

Misao paled, but nodded. "What's wrong with him?" she asked.

"He is dying," Megumi said bluntly, "but I am sure you are aware of that." Misao nodded.

"He waited too long to seek redemption," Megumi began. "His body is in rebellion, fighting from the evil that has run through his veins, corrupting his heart and liver so many years. The five essences have been trying to cleanse him of his evil acts for so long that they have broken down and no longer function. There is no hope. Do you understand? None! It is too late."

Misao turned her back to Megumi. "There is always hope," she replied stubbornly.

Megumi put her arms around the girl and patted the slightly pouching belly. "This is the only hope remaining for him. You can't help him if you offer him false hope."

Misao collapsed in her friend's comforting arms and sobbed uncontrollably. Megumi let her cry, patting her back like she was an infant. "Cry now and let it all go, but then you need to be strong. You need to be the strength he doesn't have. You are his redemption and his hope. You will give him peace at the end. Are you woman enough for this task or are you a little girl playing house and hoping she won't get caught?"

Misao straightened up and dried her eyes. "I can do this," she said firmly.

Megumi dug in her bag and handed her a small black jar. "This will control the bleeding so he won't bleed to death," she said, closing Misao's hand over the lid protectively. "Put a little in his tea daily."

Misao clutched the tiny container to her chest. "Will it be enough?" she asked.

Megumi nodded. "He doesn't have many more days left. You make sure they are good ones for him." She hugged Misao tightly.

"Don't tell the others," Misao begged. "Please!"

Megumi promised. "Be strong," she said. "Be the woman you were born to be for him."

One last hug and Megumi was gone. Misao would have thought she'd dreamed her presence except for the black jar she was clutching so tightly.


	13. A Meaningful Embrace

Chapter Thirteen: A Meaningful Embrace

The four dragons maintained their vigil of the tiger's lair, safely out of reach of his extended claw. They alternated watches, two on, two off. They noted those coming into the house and tracked them down until they had a list of names and locations to turn over to Saito when the time came.

Katsu's government connections had finally paid off, breaking their senseless chases through the countryside, going from town to town, tracking rumors. He had located the house where Enishi lay dying, and the dragons were prepared to protect their own.

Aoishi's cold exterior was firmly back in place and Sano was furious at his iciness. It angered him that Misao was alone in the big house, but the others refused to move, waiting for the right time. He disappeared on one of his off times, and they adjusted their shifts to accommodate him being absent. No one complained about his lack of responsibility. It was as if his absence was planned.

Misao left the house once during the time Sano was gone. Kenshin was on watch, alone, and followed her. When she entered the woods, he knew instantly where she was going, and let her go alone. She returned, a tiny bounce back in her step, and he wondered what she and his old teacher had found to talk about.

When Sano returned with Megumi in tow, they nodded as if they'd suspected that he'd gone to fetch help. Megumi returned from the house, pale and shaking, and they feared the worse, but she reassured them that Misao was fine. "It won't be long now," she said to them before Sano returned her to her practice. "You will be home, sleeping in your own beds in less than a week." She didn't tell the four dragons that a new child would be entering the world. She didn't talk the whole way back to her clinic. Sano returned, sober and serious, and they readjusted the watches back the way they were before he left. Aoshi wondered what she had told Sanosuke to knock the joy out of him, but Sano was closed mouth and still angry at Aoshi's cold attitude.

It was rare that Kenshin and Aoshi found themselves on the same schedule. Close to the end of the vigil, they sat together in the sunlight, waiting for their next watch.

"It's her heart," Kenshin finally said.

Aoshi looked up, his own thoughts interrupted and surprised that Kenshin would broach the subject. Kenshin frowned and plowed ahead, explaining Kaoru's explanation of how Misao's heart was lying to her. Aoshi frowned and shook his head.

"I lied," he admitted. "It was my lies that made her vulnerable to him. If I had been honest with her and myself, then she wouldn't have left. It is my mistake that has put her in this situation."

Kenshin struggled with asking the question he'd not yet gotten an answer to since their last serious talk. It seemed like years ago and he wasn't sure the answer was even necessary, but he asked it anyway.

"When I was gone, why did you protect mine?" he queried, not looking at Aoshi's face.

Aoshi shrugged. "I didn't think about it at the time. It was the right thing to do. I knew that Yahiko and Misao were too young to face the things ahead alone, and that you would come to your senses if left alone. I didn't want you to return and have nothing left."

Kenshin listened, but didn't hear the answer he expected. "My failure was a sign of weakness. Why didn't you leave me to suffer the consequences of my failure? Why did you interfere?"

Aoshi swallowed. "You were there when I failed and you didn't condemn me. I learned more from your reaction to my failure than I learned from all my successes."

They were silent. Finally, Kenshin asked, "And when this is over? What then? Will you throw away that which is most important to you?"

Aoshi shrugged again, his eyes reflecting the pain he buried. "I don't know, Himura. I don't know the answer to that question. I have failed the girl since I was just a child, and I'm still making the same mistakes and failing her again. If she has found happiness without me, then I need to leave her to her peace while I search for my own."

Kenshin stood up and stretched. "It's time to relieve Sano and Katsu. Let's go." He wasn't happy with Aoshi's response, but he had lived long enough to know that Aoshi would have work out a better answer by himself.

Enishi's good times were growing shorter and shorter with each passing day. He no longer shouted out during his bad times, but slept fitfully and Misao wondered briefly if Megumi's medicine was affecting more than his bleeding. But he hadn't had a hemorrhaging incident since she started giving him Megumi's medicine in his morning tea. She stayed with him constantly, only leaving his side briefly to eat since the smell of food made him vomit. She dozed when he slept, and she sang lullabies when he was in the sleep/wake state and couldn't rally enough to talk to her. His business men no longer came and she was grateful for the lack of distractions.

"What will you tell him," his voice was so hoarse and raspy that it troubled her. She had been daydreaming about what she'd tell her son about his father. It was odd that he was thinking the same thing. She gave him a sip of water to lessen the hoarseness and he choked on it.

"I will tell him that his father was a powerful warrior who loved him very much," she countered.

"Will you tell him about my past?" his voice pleaded with her to keep his secret.

"I will tell him the truth," she said resolutely.

"No," he begged.

"No lies, no games," she reminded him. "I will tell him that his father lost the only person who loved him when he was very young and grew up doing whatever it took to survive, and that it cost him the things he wanted most."

She listened to his breathing. He was so still, she was afraid he'd passed on before she was finished. She watched his chest rise briefly and fall again. His head in her lap, she pushed his damp hair off his forehead, and she continued. "I will tell him that his father wanted him to grow up into the kind of man he never had the chance of becoming until it was too late." He closed his eyes and drifted away. She held her breath, but he was still breathing those shallow breaths.

It was a long time before he had the strength to continue their conversation. It was night, and she lay next to him, wide awake, remembering the first time she knew she loved him. "Sorry," he whispered. "Forgive me!"

She covered his mouth with hers briefly, wondering how much longer it'd be warm to the touch, and she bit back her tears. She put his hand on her belly so he could feel the baby kicking and tears rolled out of the corner of his eyes. She kissed them away, remembering the last time she'd kissed his tears away. He turned his head, as if ashamed, and began to tell her that he had killed Cho and sent those searching for her chasing ghosts so he'd have more time with her. But she had heard that story during those black times when he was reliving his sins. She had cried for Cho and his death when she first heard it, and she had forgiven him for his need to keep her. She shushed him, unwilling to have these words spoken aloud when they'd both remember them. He fell silent.

"Everything is yours," he said on the next to the last day. "My bankers are ready to meet with you when the time comes. You and my son won't need a thing. I have made sure of that."

She shook her head, and spoke firmly. "You have given me the only thing that matters, Enishi-chan, and I will not use the money you gained at such cost. I will not raise your child on the funds that killed his father. It will taint him." She had thought a long time about Enishi's estate and what she would take with her when the time came to leave this house one last time. "I will use it so that the name Yukishiro Enishi is a legacy of good deeds and honor and your son will not be shamed by the wealth acquired illegally. It will break the curse on your family. We will provide for boys who have no place to live but the streets, and who have no one who believes in them. We will keep them safe from predators, and they will grow up strong and healthy."

He smiled. It was one of the last times she'd see his smile and she memorized it for the cold nights ahead. "My bankers aren't going to like you very much, but you are free to use it anyway you see fit," he said finally, amused by the thoughts of his businessmen encountering the stubborn woman he loved.

The last day he was with her, he was restless and his mind was cloudy. He called her Tomoe once and cried, talking about the red snow falling on them both. She soothed him, and sang to him. She told him stories about their son and how much he would look like his father, how strong and graceful he would be. He smiled at her, and kissed her hand. "I wish," he began and then he faltered. She waited. He opened his eyes and smiled again. "I would have been a different man if you had loved me earlier."

She laughed and he laughed too, before choking on the laughter. "I was a little girl," she reminded him when the choking fits subsided.

He grinned. "You were one mean child," he said. "You scared me. I thought you'd kill me if you had a chance."

She nodded. "I would have, too," she insisted, seriously.

"I know," he said, "That's why I had to kidnap you."

She shook her head. "You can't kidnap someone who can leave anytime."

"I wouldn't have let you go," he replied. "I don't want to let go of you now." The coughing started again and took longer to subside. She held him in her arms.

"I'm not the one leaving," she reminded him.

He grinned. "Teach him the moves I taught you in the practice hall."

"I will."

"And the sword? You will teach him Kaoru-san's sword techniques, the sword of protection? Not mine?"

"I will," she promised, kissing him lightly.

"Tell him I found peace the first time you embraced me."

She smiled, remembering how she almost knocked him off balance with that first heartfelt embrace. He smiled back, breathed deep and didn't exhale. She waited, counting the seconds, but she'd felt his good-bye. She caressed his lips lightly with her fingers, praying she'd feel the exhale of breath, and knowing it wouldn't come. She laid his head down gently and closed his eyes, stealing her last kiss from his cooling lips. She covered him neatly with a blanket, and stood up. His sword laid beside him, within his hands reach, and she picked it up, feeling the darkness leave it with its master's passing.

She gathered the few family mementos she'd decided to take, and went back to her room. The tears refused to flow and she packed mechanically. The last thing she put in her bag was the faded aqua gi now stained with his blood, and her beloved knives. She picked up the bag, and stopped outside his door. He looked as if he was sleeping. She hardened her heart. If she didn't leave now, she'd never leave. She left a note to the servants tacked to his door, and walked out of the house, her head high.

Aoshi watched her walk by him. He didn't recognize the woman. It was the sword she carried in her hand that convinced him the woman was the girl he had known. There was no sign of the child in her movement, and only the tears streaming down her face told him the end had come. He longed to take her in his arms and carry her to safely, but he faded into the shade and let her pass in front of him. She was nearly past when he realized the secret Sano had been hiding. His face flushed, and he stormed away.

She wiped the tears from her face and watched the birds scattering overhead, wondering what had startled them. She shifted her luggage, the scabbard she carried cut off the circulation in her hand. She looked back at the forbidding estate fondly, not seeing the dark windows and black exterior, remembering only the love she had found inside. She took a deep breath, turned and walked away. She was strong, she thought. She could do this. And she wasn't alone.


	14. There’s Still A Chance

Chapter Fourteen: There's Still A Chance

Aoshi disappeared for a long time, wrestling his demons. He visited the graves of his faithful servants, and then walked the back roads of Japan for a couple years. He never settled down, and he prayed at every shrine. He lost track of time, remembering only the girl he had failed, and how much he wished he had done things differently.

Misao settled into the small hut with the potter, Hiko, Kenshin's old sensei. When he had suggested it as a safe place to raise a child, she agreed. Going home wasn't an option, and she didn't want to raise the boy in the city. She traveled into the city weekly to meet with Enishi's business men who quickly learned not to argue with the lady because she wouldn't give an inch. Her plan for the street urchins was shaping up and the forbidden house was filling up with the laughter of young boys.

Her own son was growing like a weed. It was getting closer to the time where she would have to let him begin training. Already he was carting sticks around, imitating Hiko, who insisted he wasn't training the child he thought of as his grandchild.

She had buried her grief deep and found herself lonely, with only the old man and a young child to talk with. Her arguments with Enishi's business men didn't count either. She hadn't been home since the day she left with Cho and it still didn't feel like the time was right. Tears for Enishi were a thing of the past, though she still ached when he wasn't there to see the boy take his first step, say his first word, or swing his first sword. The consequences of Enishi's choices still hurt, but not as much as Aoshi's rejection. She wondered if he'd found peace for the choices he'd made or if he'd wait too late like Enishi did. No one had heard from Aoshi in years, and it looked like he was gone forever.

Aoshi stopped besides a small lake to wash the travel grime off his face.

"Hiy-yah!" a small voice screamed as its owner as a small tike about four rushed him. He held a stick far above his head and aimed toward Aoshi's head. He stood up and grabbed the boy as he swung.

"Woah," he exclaimed. "Hold up a minute. I won't hurt you. Besides, before you attack a man, you need to know if he's friend or foe."

The little man swung again, and he almost dropped the toddler in the water. He regained his grip and the boy chortled.

"What's your name, boy?" Aoshi said, dangling the boy farther away from valuable body parts while grabbing for the huge stick.

"Negafu," the boy replied, grinning. His white blond hair and sea blue eyes reminded Aoshi of someone, but he couldn't quite place the memory.

"Your momma calls you Hope, huh?" Aoshi grinned at the silly name and the boy frowned.

"Grandpa calls me Baka and he said if I ever found a stranger in the woods, I should swing first and ask questions later."

Aoshi laughed out loud and the boy laughed with him. "If I set you down, will you run away or try to hit me with your stick?"

The boy shook his head no. "You're not lying to me, boy?" Aoshi demanded.

He looked up at Aoshi seriously and said, "Momma said good men don't lie because they know that while the truth may hurt, it won't hurt as much as the lie." He parroted his mother's words earnestly.

Aoshi shook his head. "You have a very smart mother." He thought about all the pain his own lies had caused and wondered if they would have been prevented if he had learned this truth the child spoke when he was this child's age.

"You live near here?"

The boy pointed to a cabin close by. Aoshi set the boy down and took his hand. They walked toward the cabin together.

The boy's mother washed the clay from her hands, and went out to call her son to come home for lunch. Her heart stopped when she saw him walking hand in hand with the tall man at his side. She patted her hair nervously, and wiped her hands on her skirt.

"Momma," the little one called, letting go of Aoshi's hand and running into her arms. She scooped him up and hugged him.

"Grandpa Hiko is waiting for you, Fu-fu. You best go find him." The child squirmed down from her embrace and scampered off.

Aoshi stood at a distance, tears in his eyes, his heart breaking. If you hadn't lied, that would have been your son, he thought. He watched her and she watched him.

Hiko peeked out of the pottery shed, smiled to himself, and gave the boy a piece of clay to occupy his fingers.

The silence between Aoshi and Misao grew. Aoshi searched for words that would express his feelings. Misao wondered about the tiny flame of hope burning in her heart. Aoshi walked a little closer and stopped. Misao didn't move. He waved a small wave. She stood like a pillar of salt. He set down his pack and rummaged through it. At the bottom, hidden all these years, was a small red shoe, the one Enishi had left behind for him. His hand engulfed it.

"I lied," he said softly.

"I know," she replied.

"That makes me a bad man according to your son," he countered, taking a few steps toward her.

She laughed and his heart leaped with hope. "Things are very black and white when you are four," she responded.

"When you're 28 too, apparently," he said. "I hurt you. I have hurt you your entire life. I am sorry."

Her eyes flashed and he backed up. "You are not responsible for hurting me," she said sharply. "You can only hurt me when I allow you to hurt me, and I'm not sure I'll allow that to happen anymore."

He held out the tiny red shoe and stepped towards her. "I have been lost a long time, Misao-chan. I forgot what was important and I have lost everything that mattered to me because of my lies. I thought I'd never find you again."

She took the tiny red shoe in his hand and searched his face. "Where'd you get this?" she wondered.

"It was left for me by Enishi," he admitted.

"And you kept it? You didn't throw it away?"

He shook his head no.

"Wait right here," she said, dashing off into the cabin. He heard drawers opening and shutting, a frustrated cry, and then she appeared before him, the mate to his shoe in her right hand. "Enishi left this for me at the lawyers. They gave it to me the day they read his will to me."

He stood awkwardly in front of her, unsure of what to say to her. She thrust the shoe at him, "Look!" she cried out. "Look inside it."

He looked inside the shoe. The character for future was written in black ink on the interior sole. Kenshin's words about not throwing away the things that mattered returned to him. He placed both shoes in her hands, a matched pair.

She gazed at him in wonder. "I thought you were never gonna find me, Oshi," she said, just like she had when she was her son's age and he had finally found her asleep under the bush.

Her thin arms around his neck, he smiled. He was a slow learner, but he finally knew the answer to old Jiya's question. What do you do when you fail to protect the one you love? You try again and again, until you succeed, he thought.

* * *

The End...

There is no more. I told you this was a A/M pairing- those who didn't believe me. And Haruko, it broke my heart to let Enishi die. He is a much better man because of your love! More complex and complete. I hope you found happiness in his happiness. He insisted I tell his story kindly for change. Thank you for your reviews. I cherish each of them and hope you found some joy and peace in this tale. Remember- the road to love is filled with many traps, it is only by daring to be hurt and loving inspite of the hurt that you will find true love. It does exist, and not just in fanfic!


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